Suffer Not The Xenos To Live
by Mephisteron
Summary: The discovery of an operational warp gate poses a problem for the Ordo Xenos, the Imperium's alien hunters. A Death Watch kill team is dispatched, and once again, the Imperium places trillions of lives at risk. On the other side of the gate, a Systems Alliance frigate responds to a distress signal.
1. I Ours is The Fist of The Righteous

I own neither warhammer or mass effect. They belong respectively to games workshop and bioware. The characters of Death Watch belong to the very talented Mr. Steve Parker.

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* * *

A man sat in an empty observation room, staring out at a dying sun. The light of the blood red star was the only illumination, casting the man and his pitch black suit in a sharp outline. He'd been on the same small station and in the same observation deck for a very long time, so long he'd stopped referring to himself by name. Perhaps that was for the best. It certainly preserved his anonymity. The few people he allowed to speak with him in person, and whom he could count on both hands, called him all kinds of names. He never concerned himself with his servant's opinion of him. Through them he controlled thousands of others, little pawns on a massive web, unaware of their own master's existence or identity. He tried to ignore the fact that in many ways he was as they were. His own masters kept him at a distance, shrouding themselves just as he did in secrecy and silence. He held a little golden two headed eagle between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. He kissed the eagle heads and let the tiny medallion fall to hang from a thin gold chain around his neck. It irked him but he understood why his masters kept their work hidden even from him.

The Inquisition valued secrecy above all else. The Ordo Xenos valued it more than most.

A bright blue circle appeared in front of him, projected on the glass of the observation window.

A soft feminine voice echoed in the empty darkness.

"You have one new message."

The man rolled his neck, and raised a hand from the arm of his chair. A small screen flickered into life. "Identify user."

The man spoke in a smooth baritone. "User Sigma, two, seven, nine, four, eight."

"Access Granted. Greetings Inquisitor. Opening message."

A single line of text appeared.

_Operation Hidden Tomb has been authorized by those on high. Available assets attached._

The man turned to a small table next to his chair, the only two pieces of furniture in the room, and poured a large helping of scotch into a glass.

"Open attached files."

"The file you have requested to open is an Ordo Xenos Deathwatch asset. Only the Inquisitor in command may access his assets operational files. Please provide Deathwatch access pass phrase."

"The blasphemy of the alien is such that only one solution exists, annihilation." The man intoned.

The small screen split into three, and a list of names began to scroll upwards.

The man sipped his scotch and watched the list.

"Stop." the list stopped moving. "Scroll back." the names began to move downwards slowly. "Stop. Open asset file four, seven, nine."

The file name blinked blue and opened, spreading across the glass.

The man scrolled quickly through the files. He didn't need to see much. He and Talon were quite well acquainted. He checked deployable status, medical records, and mental evaluation. Talon was green across the board, and ready for deployment.

"Open vox link to Inquisitorial Strike Cruiser _Saint Nevarre_."

"Link open." A new voice spoke, still feminine, but rough and hard. "This is Captain Redthorne."

"Captain, this is Sigma. I need to speak with Talon Squad."

* * *

Lyandro Karras drifted in the emptiness of space, his mind empty, his soul at peace. The astartes librarian stretched his mind to its largest expanse, shooting out beyond the hull of the _Saint Nevarre_, past the huge moon the Inquisitorial Strike Cruiser orbited, past the star at the center of the system, and outwards, racing towards the blackness of the open void. Astartes librarians meditation varied from space marine chapter, and Karras had learned many other methods of exercising his mind but nothing beat void flight. Another Deathwatch librarian, a Dark Angel, had taught him how to leave his body and float in the void, extending psychic tendrils to latch on to single molecules of matter and leap from one to another. It helped focus his mind, and strengthened his grip on the temperamental forces he had to control.

A long note echoed through his mind. With some reluctance he sped backwards. He opened his eyes to find himself in his cabin, kneeling on the floor. The long note was actually the high pitched beep of his vox link.

He answered quickly, to halt the sound.

"This is Talon Alpha." He grumbled.

"Sorry to disturb you sir." A tough woman's force growled. It was Captain Redthorne, the ship's mistress. "The Inquisitor called. He wants to speak with Talon Squad."

"I did not keep you waiting, did I?" Karras left his cabin, striding down a long corridor towards an elevator system. He checked his chronometer. His fellow battle brothers would be in Hold Four around now.

"Only twenty minutes sir." The captain's voice was friendly, but Karras was sure she'd spent those twenty minutes swearing at her vox link and leaning on the call button. Captain Redthorne was a very impatient woman.

"Inform Sigma Talon will be with him in five."

"Yes sir." The link went dead.

Karras took the elevator down. As it descended, he began to hear loud crashing rumbling upwards from the hold below.

The crashing got louder and louder, and when the elevator's blast proof doors opened, he could see its origin.

"Too slow Prophet!"

A space marine hurtled into the hold wall, bouncing off into a stack of supply crates with a tremendous crash. Another marine stood in the center of the hold, pale skin soaked with sweat, long black hair pulled back into a ponytail, a broad smile on his face.

"Hello Scholar." the marine waved. "You're just in time. I'm teaching our brother the finer points of unarmed combat." In hand to hand combat, Siefer Zeed of the Ravenguard was the most deadly man Karras had ever seen, and his nickname, Ghost, was a tribute to his almost impossible speed and agility. It was Zeed who was responsible for the plethora of nicknames in Talon Squad. Karras had been given one by Zeed early on during initial training in the Deathwatch. As a librarian, Karras had spent much of his time in the Deathwatch archives, poring over tomes on psychic power and the manipulation of warp energy. His bookishness had won him that genial, if unoriginal, pseudonym.

"To the Eye with you Ravenguard." from the supply crates rose a livid Prophet. Formally named Ignatio Solarion of the Ultramarines, he was Talon Squad's marksman and scout. A master of the bolter, tutored by possibly the most talented Astartes marksman to ever wield a bolter, Solarion was a deeply proud man, and had begrudged Karras being made Talon Squad's leader. His name, Prophet, was due to his habit of constantly picking and correcting the decisions of other Talon Squad marines. He and Ghost shared a healthy dislike for one another, Prophet finding the capricious Ravenguard too relaxed and ill disciplined, and Ghost finding the prideful and stuffy Ultramarine an easy victim of fun.

"You'll never win." Zeed cackled. "I'm too fast for you brother. Are all Ultramarines this slow?"

Solarion roared angrily and charged. Zeed sidestepped almost lazily, giving the Ultramarine a push and sending him careening into another stack of crates. Karras had to bite back a laugh.

There was a loud crash. Two huge munition cases shook on the deck as they fell from a pair of scarred and callused hands. Maximmion Voss rolled his shoulders and rose from his makeshift lifting bench. Unlike most space marines, Voss was well under the usual nine feet. Unusually short, the Imperial Fist compensated for what he lacked vertically for what he had horizontally. Voss was immense, his already super human musculature pushed to an almost unbelievable size. After several modifications to his battle armor, Voss had been ordered to restrict his growth by the captain of his company and by his chapter's command. At least that was the story. Besides his strength, Voss was a gift on the battlefield. He was able to operate just about any machine, technological asset, vehicle, or weapon system. It was because of this wide breadth of technical knowledge that Talon called him Omni. Ghost often joked that the only thing Omni couldn't do was fit through doors.

"You'll never improve by toying with him Ghost." Voss rumbled.

"He'll never improve by charging me like an angry grox." Zeed retorted with a laugh.

"Not all foes are Brother Solarion." Talon Squad's fifth battle brother grunted. Darrion Rauth of the Exorcists hung by his hands from a support bar, a pool of sweat on the deck below him. He did another pull up, the four, hundred pound tires swinging from the chain that descended from the marine's waist. "Arrogance will kill you." Rauth let himself fall to the deck.

"That is wisdom for you brother." Karras nodded in agreement. "You should listen to Watcher."

Rauth gave Karras a look. The Exorcist disliked his monicker. Unlike Solarion, Voss, or the rest of Talon Squad, Rauth had been attached to address an internal problem Talon could face in the field. The Exorcist training rites were designed to prepare the initiates for combatting psychic monstrosities, daemons. The rites left their battle brothers without a psychic presence, and made someone like Rauth perfect for dealing with psychic opponents. But the psychic threat was not exclusively external. Psychic power came from the Warp, and anyone who meddled with the Warp risked death and the worse fate of possession. To wield his powers, Karras had to make contact with the distilled madness that it was built from. Should Karras lose control, Rauth would do what was necessary. He'd almost done it once before, and only Karras having saved Rauth's life in battle stopped the dour marine putting a bolter round through the librarian's skull. Rauth's nickname, while accurate, was a reminder of a cruel reality that neither Rauth nor Karras liked.

"None of you can outshoot me." Solarion growled irritably, glaring daggers at the laughing Ravenguard. "I'd like to see you beat me at the bolter range."

"I don't know brother." Voss winked at Zeed. "You don't shoot all that well."

"He has a point brother." Zeed nodded sagely as the Ultramarine spluttered in outrage. "You are slipping a bit."

"It took him two shots to bring down that Eldar sniper on Tanithus." Voss stroked his granite like chin thoughtfully.

"I'd like to see you make that shot!" Solarion snapped.

"I don't claim to be trained by the best marksman in the Ultramarines brother." Voss replied.

"Rauth took out the other with only a single shot." Zeed snickered. "Watcher may be overtaking you." Solarion rounded on Zeed as the Ravenguard mock clutched his left heart. "Oh the shame! Poor Sergeant Telion will have to resign his command when word of this gets out!" Solarion snarled in wordless fury, striding forwards to hammer Zeed into a paste. Zeed grinned hungrily, gesturing for Solarion to come at him. Karras quickly got between them before Zeed's goading led to real blood.

"Enough!" Zeed fell back, suitably mollified by the presence of his team leader. Solarion glowered, anger and violence still in his eyes.

"Ghost, you will apologize for offending the honor of a battle brother and a storied warrior like Sergeant Telion." Zeed mumbled something, and Karras glared. "Properly brother."

"I am sorry for offending the honor of Ultramar." Zeed said quickly. For a moment Solarion glared over Karras's shoulder, but then he fell back.

"Accepted brother." The Ultramarine growled. "Remember it."

"I said enough!" Karras poked Solarion in the chest. "Let it go." Solarion raised his hands in surrender.

"Yes brother."

"Sigma wants us. Report to the communications chamber."

* * *

The five marines stood around a glowing vox platform, a short pillar like device, projecting the flickering face of Talon Squad's handler above it.

"Glad you could find time to speak with me Talon Alpha." Sigma drawled. "The noble astartes are known for their punctuality. I am gratified to know that such stories are based in fact."

"I apologize for the delay Inquisitor." Karras replied. "We were delayed."

"No matter, you're here now." The Inquisitor coughed. "I have a mission for you."

The Inquisitor's face disappeared, to be replaced by an image of a gargantuan ring, rippling blue energy pouring from it's center.

"Do you know what this is?" Sigma asked.

"That is the Jericho Maw Warp Gate." Voss leaned forwards to get a better look. "I've only seen picts."

"Just so. It is becoming a serious concern."

"There's a crusade in the vicinity isn't there?" Karras asked.

"Indeed there is." Sigma replied. "Which is exactly why the gate is proving problematic."

The gate vanished, replaced by a crumpled metal husk.

"What in the Emperor's name is that?" Zeed asked. "What happened to it?"

"That is a xenos of unknown origin, an abominable AI, known to the guardsmen who encountered it as an Iron Man."

"Iron man?" Solarion's voice was grim. "It is like those things man warred against in the Dark Age?"

"Similar, but not nearly as dangerous." Sigma's voice calm, passive. "It is not capable of the same feats of power as its namesake. However, reports are coming in that significantly larger versions of this Iron Man are appearing in the proximity of the Gate." The Gate reappeared. "These AI are easily dispatched by Imperial forces, but other xenos have begun to appear."

A strange avian creature with a hole in its chest appeared followed by a strange blue skinned tentacle haired woman, and then a four eyed monster.

"Each of these creatures appeared around the Gate, and in greater numbers. Most recently, an entire ship came through." A shattered spacecraft appeared. "This information has reached as high as the High Lords of Terra. I need not emphasize how concerning this is."

The Inquisitor certainly didn't. Karras knew the dangers posed by the xenos on the Imperiums borders. Any one of them could destroy untold millions of humans before being stopped. Random attacks from something like the Jericho Gate would be unstoppable, and could cripple Imperial infrastructure and supply lines. Billions would die.

"After some initial reconnaissance, it has become clear that the Jericho Maw Gate is not a single portal like other Gates found within Imperial Space." A map appeared, small golden dots shining brightly. "My superiors have managed to send craft through the Jericho Maw to seven other Gates, previously believed to not be connected to the Jericho Reach."

Sigma paused.

"This Gate connects the entire Imperium. Every Segmentum and every major region can be accessed in an instant."

"This changes everything." Karras said softly, staring in amazement at the star map. "It would be possible to reinforce any world almost instantly."

"Defense capability would be expanded exponentially." Voss nodded.

"Response to heresy could be instantaneous." Rauth murmured.

"Exactly so." Something bothered Karras about Sigma's voice. It sounded...agonized.

"What's the problem Inquisitor?"

"The High Lords want the Gate destroyed." Sigma replied. "The problem with the Gate is that it also connects to other places, other gates beyond Imperial Space, perhaps beyond the galaxy itself. It has been deemed too great a threat to allow to exist."

"This Gate is too great an asset!" Zeed cried. "The change it could have, for trillions!"

"I am aware!" Sigma barked. Karras felt shock shoot around Talon Squad. Sigma almost never shouted.

"I have made that case again and again to my superiors." Sigma sighed. "They have given me authorization to attempt to seal the other gates and preserve the Jericho Maw and the other Imperial Gates. Should I fail, the Jericho Maw will be destroyed."

A new Gate appeared. "This Gate has been determined to be the point of entry into the Gate network. Control has been established on the other side of the Gate, and there is suitable infrastructure available for your kill team to complete its mission. More information will be delivered after you pass through the Gate."

"Once we pass through the Jericho Maw Gate, how will we communicate with Deathwatch, or with Inquisition assets?"

"You will be the primary point of communication Talon Alpha. Psychic communication is uniquely secure on the other side of the Gate."

Karras blinked. "On the other side?"

"I have already crossed over." Sigma's face replaced the Gate. "I have committed all my resources to this Deathwatch. Failure is not possible, not here, not now. The Imperium needs the Jericho Maw Warp Gate." The Inquisitor's eyes gazed at each Astartes in turn.

"You are the best Talon, you were chosen because no one else can accomplish this task. What the Emperor now asks of you is nothing less than to secure the future of His Imperium. Your names shall be spoken across a million worlds." The Inquisitor's voice was flush with emotion, and Karras could see his brothers draw themselves up a little straighter. He could feel pride swelling in their hearts and in his own. Talon Squad would not fail. "You will be counted amongst your chapter's greatest heroes. Do not fail me or the Emperor in this Talon Squad."

"We will not fail." Karras snapped. He was surprised at how harsh the words were when he said them. It was unlike him. His brothers growled agreement.

"I know you will not. Your orders are already with Captain Redthorne. I will contact you when you are through the Gate."

Sigma fell silent for a moment. "One last thing. Once across, my operatives will know me as the Illusive Man. You should as well. Good luck Talon. Ave Imperator."

The vox link blinked out.

* * *

The _ Saint Nevarre _made excellent time in its journey to the Jericho Reach. Captain Redthorne had clearly grasped the urgency of her orders, and remained on her command throne for the entirety of the two week journey, stepping down only to eat briefly and take a sleep supplement. When the cruiser arrived, she had retired to her cabin, shivering with exhaustion. Karras had made contact with a small Imperial Station orbiting the Gate, managed by a solitary Inquisitorial agent. The agent had given Karras an encoded message from Sigma with scarcely a word, and had immediately retired to the depths of the station.

Karras had reviewed the message in the private of his cabin, and then called his battle brothers together. They met in the hold, standing together in pitch black battle plate, girded for war. Voss had spent hours down in the hold, working feverishly to awaken Chyron of the Lamenters, the sixth and final member of Talon Squad. This sixth battle brother was housed in a massive Dreadnought, a terrible war machine that doubled as a life support system, and although he was certainly a warrior of great and terrible skill, he was a monstrously uncooperative machine.

"I do not understand why this idiot was allowed to conduct the awakening rites." Chyron rumbled angrily when Karras entered. "A servitor would have done a better job."

"There were time constraints Brother." Karras offered. "Our task is of great importance."

"Time was, young fools like you would have shown more respect to an old veteran." The dreadnought shifted, making the whole hold shake.

"Time was, you weren't so grumpy Old One." Karras gave Chyron's sarcophagus a pat as the Dreadnought squawked angrily. Zeed sniggered. Karras faced his brothers and smiled grimly.

"We all know our task brothers." He began. "Sigma has given Talon Squad the task of personally ending the xenos incursions into the Jericho Maw. We will be alone in this. Should we fail, there is no other team to make a second attempt."

"We won't fail." Zeed retorted. "We're the best."

"The Emperor will guide us brother." Voss nodded.

"Well said." Solarion snorted. "For once."

"I have new information from Sigma." Karras passed a small data slate to Solarion who stood next to him. "Pass that around." Solarion grunted in affirmation. "Our mission is to shadow and protect a priority asset which will be the actual tool for sealing the gate."

"We will not be taking the _Saint Nevarre_ into the Gate?" the Ultramarine asked, passing the slate to his left.

"It is too large, and Sigma does not want more operatives than necessary." Karras gestured. "This ship has a few hundred crew. Not all would be reliable. We will be taking a small stealth frigate into the Gate, specifically outfitted for our needs." Karras looked at Voss. "Omni, you will be responsible for piloting us through. Once on the other side, a ship borne logic engine is programmed to guide us to a drop off location where we will receive further orders."

"How will we be transporting supplies?" The Imperial Fist asked, glancing over a data slate scan of the small ship. "This things hold is big enough for Chyron and thats about it."

"Munitions will be waiting for us. The stealth craft is to be destroyed when we rendezvous with Sigma's operative on the other side. They will have larger transport ready."

The slate came back to him, and Karras returned it to his belt. "Sigma wants me to emphasize the delicacy of this operation. We are being inserted into a galaxy that is not uninhabited. Deathwatch are deadly but we cannot fight a war on our own. Under no circumstances are we to engage targets unless it is to prevent detection. Also, and this is important, Sigma's agents report the presence of human civilization on the other side of the gate." He felt a brief flash of excitement. "Non imperial." The excitement soured to distaste. "Our orders are to avoid contact, but several of Sigma's operatives are recruited from this population."

"Will we have to work with these pagans?" Voss growled. "The Inquisitor asks much."

"Any interaction will be limited." Karras replied. "And for what we will achieve, he does not ask much at all."

Voss bowed his head briefly. "I stand corrected brother."

"This is the Emperor's work brothers." Karras tapped the Imperial Eagle that embossed his breast plate for emphasis. "Ours is the fist of the righteous." the last sentence was the first part of an old Deathwatch prayer Karras was fond of.

"In the Emperor's name," Solarion growled.

"For the Imperium of Man," Zeed's hands glowed a brilliant blue as his lightning claws flickered to life.

"To honor the chapter and primarch." Voss' voice distorted angrily through his helmet comm as it sealed over his glowering face.

"For our brothers who have gone before us." Rauth's eye slits shone a furious red, turning the dour marine into the snarling demon on his chapter's heraldry.

"Suffer not the xenos to live." Chyron boomed, his voice a thunderous wall of sound.

Talon Squad would not fail.


	2. II No Survivors

Chapter 2!

As always, I own neither warhammer, mass effect, or deathwatch.

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* * *

The small craft shook violently as it slid into the Gate. In the cockpit, Voss felt himself being pressed down into his seat, his armor creaking under the pressure. His chrono trigger seemed to slow, seconds becoming minutes. White spots appeared before his eyes as the pressure intensified. On comms, he could hear Prophet grinding out a comment.

"I knew this would end badly…"

The pressure was rapidly becoming untenable. A warning light flashed, the shields had failed. A second light flashed. The hull was beginning to buckle. The Gate was going to squeeze them into nothingness. Jaw clenched so tight it hurt, Voss did the one thing he could think of. He seized the accelerator, and pushed it forwards. The ship's thrusters flared, and the ship shot like an arrow into the Gate, driving against the immense outward push of the portal. Voss' whole world was for a brief moment a beautiful, almost blinding, blue light.

Then suddenly, it stopped. The pressure vanished as if it had never been there. He was no longer looking at a brilliant swirl of warp energy, but into the black void of empty space. Voss breathed deeply and offered a brief prayer to the Emperor. He thumbed on the ships logic engine, and rose, a little unsteadily, from his seat.

"Omni to Scholar." There was a tense moment as the vox link remained stubbornly silent. But then with a crackle, Scholar's voice came through.

"Scholar to Omni. Are we through?"

"We're through." Voss left the cockpit, hurrying towards the hold. "Ship logic engine is directing us to our rendezvous point now."

"Good." Scholar grunted. "Get down here. Ghost is trapped under Chyron." Through the vox, Voss could hear the Raven Guard swearing violently.

"On my way."

It soon became apparent that for all the passage had been painful for Voss up at the head of the ship, it had been a catastrophe for the rest of Talon Squad. Sealed in the hold with a dormant Chyron, Voss' brother marines had been bounced around like ninepins, slamming into the walls of the hold and off of Chyron's chassis. The ancient dreadnought, despite being secured by heavy holding clamps, had become partially free from his moorings, his left arm swinging wildly in transit. From beneath the dreadnought's huge powerfist, Siefer Zeed writhed.

"I leave you alone for five minutes and this happens brother." Voss loomed over the trapped Raven Guard, grinning widely.

"Shut up tree stump." Zeed croaked. "Get me out!"

"Leave him there Voss." Solarion leaned on the powerfist, making Zeed wheeze in protest. "It'll be good for him."

"I hate you." Zeed growled. "I really do."

"He might learn some patience." Talon Squad's leader chuckled. "Think of it as training Ghost."

Zeed's alabaster white face flushed red, and Talon Squad relented.

"Alright, alright." Voss said amicably. "Watcher, Prophet, pull him out when I get the fist up. I don't want to drop it on him."

With a grunt, Voss hauled the dreadnought's fist up to chest height, allowing Rauth and Solarion to drag Zeed to freedom.

"Thank you brothers." Zeed coughed. "I'll never say a word against you again." He gave Solarion and Rauth a pat on their breast plates which both brushed aside.

"The day I believe that is the day Macragge falls." Solarion rapped on Chyron's hull. "Any damage to our Honored Brother Voss?"

"Doesn't look like it." The Imperial Fist gave the chassis a cursory once over. "I'll wake him up and run a diagnostic if you want Scholar."

Karras nodded. "Do it." Out of all Talon Squad's members, Chyron was capable of inflicting the most damage to the foe. The librarian had a feeling they would need the dreadnought. "Make sure he's operable." Voss waved in assent, already absorbed by hissing power nodes and start up protocols. Karras left him to it. He left Zeed to assist, and gestured for Solarion and Rauth to follow him. The next step was to make contact with Sigma's operative.

The stealth craft's logic engine had taken over navigation and piloting, directed towards a pre recorded location. Controls moved automatically, an invisible pilot in command. It struck Karras as a little too effective, almost as if managed by an Abominable Intelligence. Still, Talon had dealt with greater techno heresies under Sigma's command.

"Solarion, check our heading."

The Ultramarine slid into the pilot seat, armored fingers dancing over the command console with practiced ease. "A small ice planet two terran hours from our current position Alpha, it appears to be uninhabited."

"I doubt that." Karras grunted. "Anything on comms?"

"No, no signals incoming. Wait…" Solarion tapped a few commands into a console. "One encoded message, hard recorded into the vox."

"Play it."

Solarion hissed in irritation. "It requires a passphrase." The Ultramarine poked the console. "An unfinished quotation."

A little window blinked lazily, presenting a keypad and half a sentence : _**A foe without honour...**_

Karras leaned over Solarion's shoulder. "I do not recognize it."

"Nor I." Solarion grumbled. "Did you forget something Sigma gave us Alpha? Lose some piece of intelligence?" He sneered. "I've said it before, you did not belong in command."

Darrion Rauth's soft voice surprised both marines. The Exorcist had come up to Solarion's side quiet as a ghost, peering over his shoulder at the quotation. His voice, usually monotone and emotionless, carried a trace of wry amusement.

"I am surprised with you brother." Rauth leaned over and typed a few words into the console. Immediately the file opened. "That was from your own chapter."

"It was?" Karras felt Solarion cringe internally with embarrasment.

"A foe without honor is a foe already beaten." Rauth intoned. "Helveticus of the Ultramarines."

Karras punched Solarion's pauldron. "An Ultramarine should know the words of a chapter hero Brother." Solarion glared.

"Perhaps my lack of academic enlightenment can wait Alpha." The Ultramarine grumbled. "Sigma's message is open."

Sure enough, a small Inquisitorial sigil floated above the console. The Inquisitor's smooth voice filled the cockpit.

"_Talon Squad, if you are hearing this then you have survived the passage through the Gate. You are en route to an ice planet called Nirvana. The planet is largely uninhabited, save for three mining stations. You will land at the largest station where your contact will be waiting for you. Once you reach the station, make for the elevator system on the north side of the station. My operative will be waiting there. He will supply you with munitions and additional weapon systems, and provide more adequate transport. Listen to everything he says, and under no circumstances are you to engage any target, xeno or otherwise unless my operative tells you to. Sigma out."_

There was a pause.

"I don't like this." Karras murmured. "Why would Sigma want us leashed?"

"He has his reasons Alpha." Solarion replied dismissively. "We need not understand, only obey."

"What Sigma does not tell us often tries to kill us brother." Karras responded. "Rauth, I need a weapon check. Make sure none of our arsenal was damaged during flight. Solarion, go with him. I want an arctic reconnaissance loadout."

"A long range loadout would be better." Solarion countered as Rauth departed.

"We are not trekking up to the target brother. We are landing beside it." Karras pursed his lips in irritation. Solarion was by nature a know it all. "Do as I say."

"I'll not be blamed when this goes wrong." Solarion grumbled, ducking to step out of the cockpit.

"Bring a Stalker Bolter with you." Karras suggested. "That make you feel better?"

"It helps." Solarion called back. "We'll still all die."

* * *

Nirvana was a tiny planet. Preliminary scans indicated relatively weak gravitational pull, and temperatures well below freezing. Atmospheric turbulence was fortunately light, and soon after entry Talon Squad was racing across a field of ice.

"This will be a ground insertion!" Karras shouted over the vox link, his voice muffled by the roar of the ship thrusters. "Arrow formation, Solarion will be point." The Ultramarine flashed a thumbs up. "Voss, Zeed, you two will be on the rear flanks. Chyron will be between you both. " Both marines raised hands in confirmation. Chyron spun the barrel of his assault cannon. The whirring sound blended in with the roar of the ship and the thrum of the dreadnought's engine. It reminded Karras of the angry hiss of a bird of prey.

"Rauth and I will flank Solarion." Karras finished. "Final questions?"

Zeed raised a hand. "Ghost?"

"Can we open a window? Chyron is smoking up everything."

The dreadnought snapped its powerfist at the Raven Guard. "I'll throw you out if you don't like it little bird." Chyron boomed. "Let's see if you can fly."

"At least he'd shut up." Voss laughed. "Hey!" Zeed punched the Imperial Fist in the arm.

"Will you two be quiet?" Solarion growled. "Emperor forgive me you try my patience."

"Lock it up all of you." Karras barked. "Thirty seconds out." He hammered a pad, releasing the harness that secured him to the hold wall. "Make ready!" Talon Squad rose, the slides of bolters clicked loudly, targeting systems flicked red laser sights over the hold. "Helmets on." Five snarling black helms hissed as they sealed onto the gorgets Talon Squad''s battle plate. The marines Karras had spent ten years of his life with vanished beneath the glaring helmets. Zeed's forever smirking and angular face transformed into the face of a long beaked demon. Voss' boulder like visage, pocked by a web of scars became emotionless black steel. Solarion's dour frown faded into a dark glower, the advanced targeting optic on his right eye whirring as it calibrated for range. Rauth's statuesque expression was mutated and twisted, replacing the grim stoic Exorcist with the visage of a snarling demon. Karras donned his own helm, feeling the helm's psychic hood begin to interface with his armor. The hood amplified his own psychic abilities, acting like a conduit. He began to whisper to himself, humming the mantras of power taught to him as a neophyte by the librarians of his chapter on the Death Spectre homeworld. A brief moment of pain, and a bloody wound opened beneath his helm, exposing the fiery third eye on his forehead. His eyes glowed with white fire, and the world rushed into impossible clarity. he could hear the heartbeats of his brother's dual hearts, feel their thoughts as if they were his own.

A small timer blinked on his HUD display.

"Ten seconds!" He barked. "Prepare to disembark!"

The wind howled like a wolf drowning out the rumble of the entry doors and the scream of the engine.

"The Emperor is with us brothers!" Karras shouted. "In His name!"

"Suffer not the Xenos to live!" Talon Squad answered.

The ship shook as it met the ground. Talon Squad was out in under a second, moving across the ice in perfect unison, as smoothly as a raindrop sliding down a pane of glass.

"Talon Alpha to Talon, comm check."

"Talon Two, clear." Rauth hissed in Karras' ear.

"Talon Three, all clear." Voss rumbled over the vox.

"Talon Four, no movement." Solarion replied curtly.

"Talon Five, bored." Zeed snickered.

"Where is the foe Alpha?" Chyron boomed. "I wish to spill the blood of the Emperor's foes."

"Soon brother." Karras replied. "There will be foes aplenty to sate your thirst for battle."

Ahead of the kill team rose an ugly gray station, huge plumes of steam rising from smokestacks.

"Can we clarify soon?" Zeed asked. "The Old One and I are tired of waiting."

"Be quiet Five." Solarion snapped. "Alpha, movement, fourth smokestack." Solarion's bolter rose to his shoulder. "Human, armed, long range rifle of some sort. I don't recognize the uniform."

"Has he seen us?"

"Negative. He's facing away from us."

"Keep moving. Get out of his line of sight." Talon Squad broke apart without a word, spreading out and picking up pace, sweeping over the ice and into the shadows of the station walls.

"I don't have eyes Alpha." Solarion grunted. "We're exposed here."

"Scholar knows what he's doing Prophet." Zeed's voice crackled on the vox. "Shut up."

Karras checked his HUD compass. "The north side is to our right. Prophet, you lead." The Ultramarine didn't respond, but moved on regardless, stalker bolter leveled. Karras fell in behind him, followed by Rauth and the huge form of Chyron.

Talon Squad slid forwards, the astartes moving from shadow to shadow in total silence. Even Chyron, a full twenty tons of metal, was like a ghost, the only sign of his passing a gentle vibration of the ice beneath Talon's feet. The Deathwatch marines were next to invisible. The brilliance of the sunlight on the ice made normally faint shadows pools of deep darkness, completely enveloping the six astartes.

"Two targets, four hundred meters." Solarion whispered suddenly, dropping to one knee behind a chain fence. "Armed, rifles and sidearms."

"Our contact?" Voss asked.

"Possibly." Karras agreed. "Move into overwatch. Prophet, Omni, find positions of advantage. Chyron remain here. Watcher, Ghost, on me. If we take contact, consider anything that moves Mortis Extremis."

The grunts of affirmation rippling through his vox, Karras stepped out of cover, his battle brothers behind him.

* * *

Daniel Long shivered. His uniform wasn't designed for this kind of weather. The Illusive Man had taken Long from a very enjoyable job pretending to be an aide for the Alliance Embassy on the Citadel, and dumped him here. To make matters worse, he'd also sent Long company. Normally Long wouldn't have minded, but...

"I'm freezing my dick off out here."

Captain Gren wasn't what Long considered good company. The Ceberus commando and his unit had been sent as a security measure. Long thought they were unnecessary, after all, Nirvana was the emptiest planet in four star systems, but the Illusive Man disagreed. So did Gren. On his first day, Gren had cornered Long and made it abundantly clear what he was authorized to do should Long fail to follow the Illusive Man's orders.

"Then go inside." Long snapped, blowing on his frozen fingers.

"And leave you out here with the cargo?" Gren laughed nastily. "Fuck that."

"I'm not going to run away with it." Long grumbled. "Each crate weighs a fucking ton as it is."

"I'm worried about the ship you dozy sod." Gren hopped up and down, his weapon rattling against his armor. "That thing must have cost a fortune."

He had a point. The Illusive Man had sent Long to Nirvana not only with what must have been enough ordnance to fight a small war, and a ton of sealed crates he had been ordered to not open on pain of dismemberment, but also a sleek, beautifully designed star ship. If a vessel could be called sexy, this one was. Long had grown up on star ships, had spent a few years with the Alliance Navy, but he'd never seen a ship like this one. It flew so smoothly you could forget it was moving. It had a stealth drive. A stealth drive! He hadn't been allowed in the engine room, but he was sure it ran on something other than Eezo. No element zero dependant ship could match the speeds that beautiful beast could put out. Even its name was sexy.

_The Final Secret_.

Long desperately wanted to fly her, the spacer within him screaming to put that ship through its paces. But the Illusive Man had been clear. Only his assets could use the vessel, it was needed for an important mission. Long didn't want to know what kind of job required such an advanced ship. Not a pleasant one he bet.

He shivered again, and stared at his boots. He heard Gren swear, and turned to ask what was bothering the bastard this time.

A nine foot tall mech loomed over him, burning red eyes glaring down at him. Long felt a warmness in his trousers. Two more mechs appeared as if from nowhere.

"Are you our contact?" The first giant boomed, in a voice like distorted terrifying thunder.

"Aaaa..." Long gagged.

"Are you our contact?" The giant asked again.

"You from the Illusive Man?" Screw Gren. To his right, Long saw the Ceberus commando had swallowed his fear and was staring calmly up at the giants.

"Yes."

"Then that's us." Gren stuck out a hand. "Andrew Gren." The first giant cocked it's snarling head, then shook Gren's proffered hand. The commando's whole body shook like a rag doll.

"Scholar. You have orders for us?"

"Ask my bitch friend here." Gren pointed at Long. "If he hasn't shit himself already."

The giant seemed to ignore Gren, and turned to Long. "Orders?"

"H...here." He handed over a data slate. "The Illusive Man said everything you needed was on there."

The giant was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, it was to Gren. "My brothers report soldiers on the towers of the station."

"Your brothers?" Gren raised an eyebrow. "That'll be my men, just keeping an eye on things."

"I dislike being watched by armed men." The giant growled. Gren shrank back slightly. Long smirked. Not so tough after all huh?

"I can get them down here." The commando offered.

"Do that." The giant turned away, data slate in hand. The other two stood still as statues, staring impassively and Long and Gren. As the commando barked into his commlink, Long worked up the courage to ask a question.

"I have a lot of ordnance here. What do you guys need this for?"

"Were you told?" One of the other giants asked, less like thunder and more like a serpent's hiss.

"Um no..."

"Then do not ask." Long whimpered.

"Our orders require your assistance." the first giant turned suddenly, striding up to Long so quickly the Ceberus agent jumped backwards.

"Wh...what?"

"We are to be outfitted with Omni Tools." the giant growled. "You are required for that."

"You don't have Omni Tools?" Gren half laughed.

The giant looked at him sideways. "Should we?"

"Well..I..it's okay if you don't…" Gren's men began to file out of the station, stopping in shock when they caught sight of the three giants. Like their commander however, they recovered and formed a rough half circle, hands conspicuously on their assault rifles. Long doubted they'd do any good if the giants turned violent.

"Is this everyone?" the first giant asked. Gren nodded. The giant grunted to itself and rose to it's full height.

"Talon Squad. To me." Two more giants appeared as if from nowhere, melting out of the shadows. Shouts of surprise accompanied them, and Long winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of rifles being primed.

"Hold fire! Hold...oh god…" Long's voice died in his throat. A huge machine emerged, a massive fist and even larger cannon on either side of a massive armored chassis. A long ornate rectangle only describable as a sarcophagus adorned the terrifying machine's center.

"Such illustrious company sent to greet us." the machine roared. "Such an honor for His chosen."

"That thing can talk?" Gren gasped.

"This thing is Chyron little man." The machine boomed. "Chyron can also reduce you to bloody mist."

"Do not threaten them." the first giant barked. "They are needed."

"Don't see what for." The machine grumbled. If he wasn't so scared, Long would have laughed. It sounded like the machine was sulking.

"Now," the first giant leaned forwards. "About these Omni Tools."

* * *

Their contact stammered and whimpered too much for Karras' liking. Even amongst Imperial citizenry, the Astartes inspired a measure of fear. But this went beyond that into plain cowardice. Still, the fear made the man efficient. He leapt to obey Karras' instructions, quickly digging five little strips of metal from a metal case.

"These are Omni Tools. They include a communication interface, an Extranet module, personal accounting, camera, machine interface…" Karras glared and the man shut up.

"What do we need these things for?" Zeed asked over the vox as the little man attached one of the strips to the Raven Guards gauntlet.

"Sigma says we need them for everything." Karras sighed. "Apparently they work like personal logic engines, able to interact with other tools, doors, vehicles, everything."

"Huh." Zeed peered at the strip of metal intently. Sigma's operative shrank away.

"Useful." Voss' voice was tinged with excitement. "What else does Sigma have for us?"

"You can toy with it later brother." Solarion replied. "Focus."

"Don't pretend you aren't interested Prophet." Voss chuckled.

"I do not let that interfere with operational discipline." The Ultramarine retorted, watching Rauth kneel to have his Omni Tool attached.

"Uh... there's a tutorial on each tool." Sigma's contact mumbled cautiously. "All your supplies are here, your ship is over there." He pointed, and Talon Squad followed his hand.

Karras had never seen a more beautiful ship. Over the vox, he heard Zeed whistle appreciatively.

"Sigma's going all out for us eh brothers?" Voss laughed. "Almost makes me not hate the slimy bastard."

"It is a beautiful vessel." Solarion agreed, awe in his voice, operational discipline forgotten.

"A fitting vessel for the Emperor's chosen." Even over private squad comms, Chyron's voice was deafening.

"Alpha." Rauth's voice cut into Talon's train of thought. "The operative."

The man was shifting from foot to foot.

"Speak." Karras grunted.

"The Illusive Man had a message I was to give to you." the man stumbled over his words.

"Talon, Contact designated Mortis Proxima."

Karras felt a brief flash of anger. Sigma's ruthlessness was beyond even what a space marine deemed necessary.

"Wait!" The little man screamed as Talon Squad leveled their bolters. "What are you doing?"

"It's a trap!" behind Sigma's quaking operative, the commandos sprinted in different directions, diving for cover or rushing back towards the station.

"No survivors." Karras snapped. Bolters barked, Chyron's assault cannon roared, and bright purple plasma flew from Voss' plasma gun. The operative and his companions were cut down in an instant, torn apart by explosive bolt rounds or incinerated by plasma fire. A few commandos tried to fire back, but died before their weapons could reach their shoulders, bright orange flashes preceding their deaths.

_They have shields._ Karras realized.

"Targets eliminated." Solarion's voice was icy.

"Sweep the station. The enemy has personal shielding. Leave none alive." Karras grimaced. He disliked kill orders. They felt like betrayal.

One of the commandos, their leader, was dragging himself towards a rifle, blood pouring onto the ice from the remnants of what had once been his legs.

Karras stepped on the rifle, looming over the stricken man. Behind him, the Librarian could hear Talon Squad moving past him into the station.

"Why?" the man croaked, staring up at his killer.

"You were unfortunate." Karras replied. "You were deemed no longer necessary." A bolter fired.

"Who else is in the station?"

"Scientists." the man coughed. He was growing pale. Blood loss would claim him soon. "Researchers." he spat onto Karras' boot. "Civilians."

"There are no civilians in the war for survival." Rauth strode up to Karras' side, the barrel of his bolter steaming.

"We both work for the Illusive Man!" the man was fading in and out of consciousness now. "We're supposed to be allies."

"No." Karras sighed. "We serve your Illusive Man." He reloaded his bolter. "You were merely tools, easily discarded."

He fired once.


	3. III The Mind of a Child

So chapter three just kinda followed directly after chapter two.

From the reviews I've gotten, you guys seem to be enjoying the story. As always, all input is appreciated!

Read and review!

* * *

Sigma swirled the scotch in his glass with distaste. He really would have to get it changed for something better. A little alert appeared in front of him. A missive from one of a thousand pawns. A series of photographs spread out across his screen, images of shattered bodies and smoking ruins.

Karras and Talon Squad had reached Nirvana then. Sigma sighed in satisfaction. The Death Watch was not often subtle, but they were effective. A man rarely gifted with good news, Sigma allowed a small smile to crease his face. Talon Squad would ensure things went smoothly.

Another alert. A Miranda Lawson wanted to speak with him. The smile faded. Blood and fire! He had a profound dislike for that woman.

"Open a communication link with the Lazarus Station."

He turned his armchair, facing the center of the observation deck, where a tall, strikingly beautiful woman in a tortuously tight white body suit now stood.

"Miss Lawson." Sigma raised his glass in greeting.

"Sir." Her accent rolled from her mouth like water. "I have an update on the Lazarus Project."

Her accent was a strange sound that Sigma thought was a mix between Cadian and Tanithi. Either way, it only served to improve her.

"Go ahead." He forced a smile. He dearly hoped she hadn't brought her datapad.

Lawson raised her datapad.

Sigma bit back a groan. This would take hours.

"The patient's brain activity is increasing, a thirty percent jump since yesterday's diagnostic."

Sigma had known some pedantic people in his time, but never any like Miranda Lawson. He was used to moving through information quickly, absorbing and utilizing intelligence almost instantly. Several augmetics by close friends in the Adeptus Mechanicus had fed his nature. He could absorb a written document in seconds. Lawson however, insisted on delivering her reports personally. He hated her for it. She was so inefficient.

"His heart rate has stabilized..." She paused. "Sir?"

Observant as well. Another reason he hated her. "Continue Miss Lawson, his heartbeat?"

Miranda gave Sigma a look, but continued.

"In conclusion sir, by my estimates, Project Lazarus should have the patient up and about in a week at the latest."

"He has a name Miss Lawson."

She stared. "Sir?"

"Our patient. John Shepard." Sigma leaned forwards. "He has a name. He is a human being."

"I didn't know you felt so strongly about him sir." Miranda replied.

Sigma pursed his lips. "He is important Miss Lawson. You know that more than anyone."

"He's still only a tool sir."

"A tool you will have to work with. Which you will have to subordinate yourself to." Sigma placed his glass carefully on his little side table. "It would be best if you began to treat him with the level of respect you will have to pretend to show him when he wakes."

Miranda was silent for a moment.

_You're a smart girl_. Sigma cracked a knuckle in irritation. _You understand._

Sigma, like many Inquisitors in His service, was a psyker. Gifted in augury and perception, Sigma was a hard man to hide thoughts from.

Miranda Lawson made no attempt to hide her thoughts, and the impudent disrespect that casually drifted in with her grated Sigma whenever he spoke to her.

The reason he left her breathing was for that brilliant mind hidden behind that artificially modified body.

He could see understanding dawn. Miranda looked back at him, and fresh respect shone in her eyes.

That was the other reason he kept her alive. She was a brilliant tool, and so uniquely easy to manipulate.

"I understand sir." She smirked, "we wouldn't want a slip up when he wakes."

"No," Sigma drew his face into a paternal smile, reaching out to push a small feeling of approval into her subconscious. "We wouldn't."

Miranda hid her emotions well, but Sigma knew a hidden smile when he saw one. The poor girl wanted fatherly approval and Sigma was willing to provide, so long as he got the results he wanted.

"Is that all Miss Lawson?" He made to turn away.

"No sir, there is one more thing."

"Oh?" He paused. "And what is that?"

"It's about Nirvana Station."

She would have found out about that. Sigma cursed inwardly.

"What about it?"

"I ran a check on their systems sir," Miranda brushed her hair out of her face, resting her hands on her hips. "There hasn't been activity for the past twenty four hours."

Sigma knew where this was going.

"The station has been at full activity for the past year sir, this silence is unusual."

"Nirvana station isn't really your concern Miss Lawson."

"My project relies on the minerals that station produces to create the insulators for Shepard's cybernetics sir, with respect, it is my concern."

That was a little too combative for Sigma's liking. He frowned slightly, and lashed out, cracking her mind with a surge of disapproval and disappointment. Miranda seemed to shrink.

There was a long silence. He felt conflicting thoughts. Worry, fear of disapproval, and genuine concern for her work. There was another, a stubborn thought. She was going to keep on about it no matter what he did.

"The personnel on Nirvana station became a liability." He turned away from her, looking out at the red giant beyond the station.

"Sir?"

"Nirvana Station was to handle to movement of several items of extraordinary import. The operatives given this assignment failed to maintain security standards. I'm sure you know protocol."

There was what he'd been looking for. Understanding, acceptance, approval, flashed quickly through Miss Lawson.

"I understand sir."

"Good." He half turned his chair to face her. "Don't mention that station again."

"No sir." He rewarded her with a shot of contentment.

"You are a very gifted operative Miranda."

"I...thank you sir." Oh yes, Sigma smiled to himself. _That was embarrassment._

"You remember your orders?"

"Yes sir."

"You're work is too important to fail." He leaned back to look her in the eye. False emotions of implicit trust flooded towards her. "Your work is not just important to me, or Cerberus. Mankind depends on your success."

"Yes sir." The comm link blinked out. Sigma smiled. _The mind of a child_. "Open a link to _Final Secret_."

* * *

Miranda Lawson stepped off the communication platform, sighing with relief. That had gone better than she'd expected. The Illusive Man had been far less tolerant lately. Some real horror stories had worked their way through the grapevine. Budget cuts, demotion, relocation to backwater pointless operations, and now a team wipe. That hadn't happened in years. She supposed the stress was getting to him. She could sympathize. Even for her, the pressure was immense.

A headache began to develop as she made her way back to her office. She'd been getting them with greater regularity of late. Probably the late hours she was keeping. She pulled a pill bottle from a drawer in her desk, took two headache relievers, and sat down to work. Despite what she'd told the Illusive Man, there were still some serious concerns regarding Project Lazarus' time table. Shepard could have an aneurysm, an essential cybernetic system could fail, or worse still , an implant could irrevocably damage Shepard's mental capabilities. The first two would simply delay the project. The last one might ruin two years of work.

She winced, massaging her temples. Her headache had gotten worse. Just staring at her datapad was making her head spin.

She tapped her Omni Tool. "Wilson, I'm going to retire early tonight."

On the other end of the line, a hoarse voice laughed. "Finally, Miranda Lawson takes a night off."

"I'll be in my quarters if you need me."

"Alright." The intercom crackled. Wilson was blowing air through his teeth. "I'll be in the lab with sleeping beauty."

She managed a shower, but the hot water made her head spin, and she barely made it to her nightstand. She took another two pills, and collapsed on her bed, sinking into the soft mattress. Above her, the ceiling fan whirred.

_Your work is too important to fail._

_You remember your orders?_

_I'm sure you know protocol._

The Illusive Man's voice rang in her ears_. _Her headache began to fade, and sleep overtook her.

She woke to the piercing ring of her Omni Tool. Still groggy, she answered, only to lurch back as Wilson's voice blared out of the orange screen.

"Miranda! Get down here now!" Wilson shouted. "Shepard's vitals are spiking." For once, Miranda was glad she fell asleep clothed. She sprinted down the long hallway from her office to the laboratory, bare feet pattering on the cold metal floor. She turned a corner, slipping and almost falling. She caught herself on the wall and almost collided with the door to the laboratory.

"Let me in! Now"

A short, weasel faced man leapt to open the door. "Miranda, all his vitals spiked. His brain activity is off the charts!" Wilson rushed around the lab, knocking over equipment and fumbling with a long needled syringe.

In the center of the lab, on a long surgical table, straining against his bonds, was a wild eyed John Shepard.

"Get me a sedative, now!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!"

Miranda leaned over the struggling Shepard, pushing his head back down onto the table.

"Shepard, I need you to listen to me." Shepard groaned, his bonds creaking as he lurched forwards. "You need to relax. Just close your eyes." She glared at Wilson. "Where's that sedative?"

"Here!" Wilson jabbed the syringe into Shepard's arm. The man groaned again, straining even harder.

"It's not taking!"

"Another dose!" Miranda barked. _That dose should have felled a krogan._ The second dose was administered, and Shepard fell limp.

"I told you your estimates were off!" Miranda snarled at Wilson. "Run them again!" For a moment, the weasel faced man looked like he might argue back, but her expression made him think otherwise. He jabbed his middle finger into her face, and hurried from the lab. As he left, Miranda heard him muttering to himself.

_Filthy little prick_. Miranda shuffled around the lab, flicking on medical equipment. The sedative had put Shepard down, but for how long? Not all the implants were complete, and should he wake up again…

She tried not to think about it. Suffice to say it would end the project.

A diagnostic on his bloodstream showed the sedative still moving through his body, but as she watched, it steadily decreased in percentage per litre of blood. She'd have to put him on a sedative drip.

The Illusive Man had made some unusual requests when he'd first assigned Miranda the Lazarus Project, implantations and cybernetic replacements she hadn't seen the use for. But she understood now.

A quick scan revealed two hotspots in Shepard's internal organs. Both were implants, one a cybernetic behind his liver that aided in flushing chemicals from the bloodstream, the other an artificially grown secondary heart. The cybernetic was rapidly flushing the sedative, and the secondary heart was beating in doubletime, pulling the load for Shepard's primary heart which the sedatives would have slowed to almost total stillness.

Enhanced muscle fibers had been surgically implanted. Cybernetic lungs, larger and more powerful than the originals had replaced Shephard's old pair. The originals had been crushed in the vacuum of space.

The old Shepard had been lethal, amongst the top tier of Alliance special forces N7 group. Under the Illusive Man's guidance, Miranda had made him something more.

Shepard mumbled to himself, eyes flickering under his eyelids.

Miranda smiled. The Illusive Man would be happy with the results of her work. She was sure of it.

* * *

Karras tapped a key on the orange panel hovering over his wrist. The door slid open. He tapped it again. It slid shut. He tapped another key. The lights blinked off instantly. A second tap, and they blinked on again.

"I'll never get used to this." He murmured to himself.

"Don't complain Scholar." Voss trundled by, a huge ammo case in either hand. "I love this ship." He laughed. "Have you seen the middle deck yet?"

"No, I haven't brother." Karras followed after the bulky Imperial Fist. "Should I?"

"Without delay." Voss said emphatically. "The armory we've got on board is incredible. I've never seen it's like."

"Where do you want these Scholar?" Zeed came round a corner ahead of them, two astartes sniper rifles slung over one shoulder. "There's twelve more in crates outside"

"Omni says there's an armory on the middle deck. Put those two there. The rest go to the hold."

Zeed vanished.

"There's a training pit in the hold." Voss laughed at Karras' bemused expression."Like the ones in the Pankration on Damaroth. He can hardly wait to test the combat program."

"He's been craving a challenge." Karras grunted. "How many more supplies remain outside?"

"Just these two and four boxes of spare parts." Voss jerked his head at a door marked as a cargo hold. "Get that for me brother?"

Karras swiped a gauntleted hand over his Omni Tool, and the door slid open.

"Sigma must have put a fortune into this operation." Voss grumbled, heaving the two crates into a heavy munitions container marked _Kraken Rounds_. "I'll admit, some of this tech has me worried. Bring the last few boxes in Prophet. Take them to Hold two. One is loaded."

Karras heard the Ultramarine growl about indignity over the vox, and smirked.

"You'll drive our brother to distraction." He said as together, the Death Spectre and Imperial Fist left the cargo hold.

"It's good for him." Voss waved a hand dismissively. "In all seriousness brother." Voss stopped outside the doors, putting a hand on Karras' pauldron. "This ship is not of Imperial design. I got a look at some of the basic on board systems, and none of it follows Adeptus Mechanicus protocol."

Karras frowned. "None of it?"

"None." Voss tapped his forearm. "These little orange tools especially. Aside from the weapons, navigation, and armory systems, I don't think anything on this ship is made by Man."

_Xenotech_. "Sigma has not been open with us." Karras' mood soured. As part of his service with the Death Watch, it was only natural that he and his battle brothers came into contact with xenos technology. But to be reliant on such foul machines was almost too much to countenance. "I will speak to him of this as soon as possible."

"See that you do Scholar." Voss replied warningly. "I'll not have techno heresy on my soul when I go to meet the Emperor."

Karras left the Imperial Fist, and walked deeper into the ship. He strode along a wide and raised corridor, lined with glass, and hanging over a vehicle hangar. Below Karras saw Rauth wiring Chyron into a dreadnought hibernation rig. Through the glass he could hear the faint rumble of Chyron's voice, no doubt giving vent to his frustrations. Four drop pods in Death Watch livery lined the hangar, larger than the pods used by most space marine chapters. These pods had heavy thruster arrays, allowing them to act as transports back into orbit after Talon Squad finished their operations.

The corridor gave way to a wide command deck, dominated by a projected star map, a beautiful projection of planets, space stations, and unfamiliar star systems. Names flashed up as Karras looked on, planets lighting up as his gaze passed over them.

_Where have you sent us Sigma?_ Karras felt eerily alone as he looked at the star map. He found the warp gate, then Nirvana, but outside of that, he had no reference points. Talon Squad was totally dependant upon Sigma to guide them. The thought did not comfort him.

He left the bridge, and wandered the ship, memorizing the layout, instinctively looking for choke points and areas of intersection. The mind of an Astartes was never far from war. He found Rauth and Solarion together in a dimly lit section of the middle deck. The two of them had discovered a compartment clearly built as a reliquary. Rauth nodded to Karras as the librarian passed, absorbed by a small prayer book, from which he read a litany of purification over a small statue of the Emperor.

"The next compartment was made for you Alpha." Solarion said, busy hanging a tapestry depicting the First Secondment, the first gathering of the Death Watch.

The next compartment was indeed, made for Karras. It was a Librarium, stocked with data slates. Titles Karras had only heard about lined the shelves. As he perused the texts Karras noticed a trend. All were oriented towards warp travel. Some were treatises on the Immaterium itself, or the records of Navigators and Imperial Astropaths. Sigma clearly had an opinion on what was pertinent to Talon's mission.

Voss had moved into the ship armory, completely absorbed in his work as he unpacked, cleaned, and stocked over a hundred weapons. All the tools of the Death Watch, from hesh bolters to power knives were spread haphazardly across a huge work table, behind which sat the Imperial Fist, humming to himself.

Zeed did not need to be sought out. As soon as he entered the hold, Karras could hear the whir of a combat machine, and the clatter of razor sharp limbs on an Astartes war blade. In the far end of the hangar, Chyron stood dormant in his harness.

A light flashed on Karras' wrist, a message from his elusive handler.

_Gather your brothers. I must speak with you. _

_\- Sigma_

_He had best have some explanations. _Karras thought.

"All brothers report to the bridge. Sigma had made contact."


	4. IV A Prey To Hunt

Chapter 4! Holy shit!

I won't be able to update this quickly, but I've had a bit of a free week end, and this story is basically writing itself. I will try in future for one update a week.

I own nothing! As always, read and review, it really helps!

Enjoy!

* * *

Karras was mismanaging this briefing. He was letting his brother's grievances affect his judgement, just as Solarion knew he would.

The Death Spectre lacked the discipline for command.

Talon Squad stood together on the bridge of their new transport. Rauth and Maximmion Voss sat in Astartes sized chairs either side of a huge and detailed star map. Solarion and Karras stood opposite them, directly in front of a communications array, from which an increasingly harassed Sigma was attempting to answer Talon Squads increasingly furious questions. Zeed, to Solarion's immense relief, remained silent, perched on a handrail like a great raptor, a vox link in one hand, through which Chyron was being kept appraised of the briefing.

"Over fifty percent of all systems are automated!" Voss growled. "Even if it was made by men, it is controlled by abominable intelligence!"

"I assure you Talon Three, all technology in the _Final Secret _were first put before an Adeptus Mechanicus authorization conclave." Solarion could hear exasperation oozing through Sigma's voice.

"The Mechanicus would never have authorized such an egregious flouting of their laws!" Voss countered. The Imperial Fist's face was beet red. "We are sworn to serve, not commit tech heresy on your order!"

Solarion wouldn't say so, but the stocky marine was saying what the Ultramarine was thinking. He was very uncomfortable with the lengths Sigma seemed willing to go to.

"Dorn's Blood!" Voss swore. "I entered my quarters and a computer addressed me by name!"

"I as well." Chyron's normally booming voice sounded tinny through the vox. "Something has been attempting to interface with my machine spirit since I was brought aboard."

"The _Final Secret _has what is being referred to as an Sentient Action Machine Spirit." Sigma tried to continue, but was cut off.

"It has an A.I!" Voss stood, spittle flying from his lips.

"The Machine Spirit was equipped with additional functions by the order of the Inquisition." Sigma raised one hand in an attempt to stall further outbursts. "It is perfectly within the bounds of Imperial Creed."

"You should have told us Sigma." Karras leaned against the communications array, the smooth silvery metal rim creaking under his weight. "You should have told us the ship we would be using would be blasphemous."

"You know what you need to know Alpha." _Yes, that was definitely a shout._ "It has always been this way."

Solarion might not approve of Karras, or his impertinent attitude towards Talon Squad's handler, but you did not raise your voice to one of the Emperor's space marines. Beside him, he knew his brothers felt the same.

"Mind yourself Inquisitor." Darrion Rauth rarely spoke above a whisper. Voice raised, he sounded much the same as how Solarion imagined a bolter would, curt and biting. "We are not servants."

"You are Death Watch!" Sigma snarled. "You are sworn to serve."

"We are sworn to serve the Emperor of Man." Solarion stepped forwards to stand beside Karras. _The Inquisitor oversteps himself_. "Not you." Beside him, Karras looked at him strangely. _You stand with me?_ The look seemed to ask.

_I do not approve of your decisions Karras._ Solarion thought. _But you are my brother before all else._

"Prophet is right." Zeed hissed. "It strikes me that you have considerable need of us Sigma. I would watch my tongue if I was you."

"How dare you!" Sigma spat. "Is this what I should expect of all Astartes? As soon as you leave the bounds of the Imperium, you turn to rebellion?"

"Rebellion?" Chyron's voice roared through Zeed's vox caster. "You accuse the Emperor's Chosen? When it is you who consort with the Xeno?" The dreadnought growled in rage. "Consider your next words with great care Inquisitor."

There was a long silence, during which Talon Squad and the Inquisitor stared at one another through the array.

"You are right." Sigma raised his hands in surrender. "I was inappropriate. I dishonor myself by my behavior and insult you with my words."

_That's new._ Solarion blinked. The Inquisitor had crossed worse lines before and not apologized. Why was he now?

_Does he doubt his power?_

So far from the institutions of the Imperium, did Sigma believe he could no longer control Talon Squad?

As if he had read the Ultramarine's thoughts, Sigma continued.

"We are completely separate from our Imperium. This place is governed by different laws, by different powers. Compared to our foes we are precious few." The Inquisitor exhaled. "I do not wish to fight with you. That was never my intention, and I truly regret keeping secrets from you. I must ask you to have faith. If not in me, then at least in that all I do is in His name. Can you do that?"

There was a long pause. Finally, Karras spoke.

"None of us doubt your loyalty to our Father Sigma. Nor do we doubt your commitment to His Imperium." Sigma made to speak, but the librarian stopped him with a raised hand.

"Should you want our trust however," Karras' voice was calm, but it carried a warning. "You will not keep secrets from us. You say we are alone here, and if so, we must work as equals."

Sigma nodded. "Fair words."

"I am not done." The librarian leaned forwards so that he and the Inquisitor were face to face. "Do not insult the honor of my brothers again."

The Inquisitor seemed perturbed. Solarion noted that it hadn't been Talon's fury that had bothered the man, but their swiftness to join against him.

"I swear it shall not happen again." Sigma murmured. Karras nodded curtly and straightened.

"As I said, our enemies are many." The Inquisitor seemed eager to move on. "Although not aware of our presence, there are many in this galaxy who would see our holy work ended."

"Xenos." Zeed growled. Unlike Solarion, the Raven Guard had removed his armor, clad only in the black fatigues of an Inquisitorial trooper, sized up to fit his post human frame.

"Yes." Sigma grimaced. "Xenos. You all read the dossiers in your Omni Tools correct?" Sigma clicked his tongue. "The most populous xenos races are of considerable concern. The Asari, Turians, and Salarians control a significant area of local galactic space. They possess considerable resources, especially military resources."

"The dossier also made mention of a System's Alliance and a Batarian Hegemony." Solarion opened the file, the orange light illuminating his face. "There are human beings in this place."

"There are." Sigma sneered. "Misguided blasphemers and consorters with xenos. They are unreliable. Should it come to blows, they would undoubtedly side with our enemies.. The Batarians are dangerous but have enemies amongst the other races that would preclude them from attempting to interfere with us."

"Protocol for interaction?" Solarion asked. At least he could ask important questions if his brothers couldn't be bothered.

"I would suggest avoiding contact as much as possible." Sigma replied. "_Final Secret_ is equipped with a Alpha Grade Inquisitorial Stealth Drive, and should remain largely impossible to detect."

"They don't have warp signature auspex?" Voss asked. "I thought that would be essential for a space faring race."

"I sincerely doubt they know the warp exists at all." Sigma smiled wryly. "In that, perhaps they are fortunate."

"That is not possible." Karras cut in. "I can feel it Sigma, you can as well, the Warp flows here just as it does on the other side of the Gate."

"It does." Sigma nodded. "But it feels different, does it not?" Karras scratched his chin.

"It feels... like a lake. Less like an ocean."

Solarion's lip curled. More mindless witch babble. Solarion shared the disgust most servants of the Emperor reserved for those cursed with the witch blood. As far as he was concerned, any contact with the fel powers of the Warp was just as damning as any heresy.

"What do you mean a lake?" Zeed asked, pale head cocked to one side.

Karras stared at the ceiling for a long moment before answering.

"A psyker submerges themselves completely in the Warp when he draws on its power. Normally, the experience is like diving into a raging sea." Karras gestured to Sigma. "Sigma has taken us to a place that feels...different. The Warp does not reach for me when I open myself to it. It's passive. Like a lake."

"Shouldn't that be impossible?" The Raven Guard was strangely serious. Solarion was pleasantly surprised. _Finally something that the fool takes seriously_. "The Ecclesium taught that the Warp is infested by daemon kin. Shouldn't they attempt to devour you every time you made contact?"

"It is impossible." Rauth rose from his seat by the star map. "The very nature of the Warp is to be chaotic. It is the dark power of the Great Enemy that shapes it."

"And yet the Immaterium is placid, as your Alpha says." Sigma murmured. "Which brings us to the reason for my summoning you. If you would turn your attention to the star map…."

The map expanded, and the bridge lights dimmed. The map grew till it took up a huge section of the room. Red lights stood out amongst the stars and planets.

"Those red lights are called Mass Relays." Sigma's voice took on a scholarly tone. Solarion was reminded of lessons with his Scout Sergeant. It soothed him. He shook the feeling off. "These relays are used by the indigenous population for rapid long range transport from place to place. Because they are unaware of the Immaterium, they are unable to do as we do, and utilize warp drives for deep space travel."

"Then how do they cover these distances?" Karras asked. "Can the relays project them to specific points?"

"The relays can only move them between relays." Sigma answered. "But they have come up with an interesting work around. It is called an Eezo Drive."

"I know it." Voss rumbled from his seat. "It's a mineral isn't it? It's used in most things."

"Correct Omni. The Element Zero is unique in that it allows matter to be reduced in mass to an almost negligible degree. It can make a starship capable of near light speed travel for short distances."

"There is a but in that Sigma." Voss' eyes glowed with curiosity. "What is the problem?"

"But... eezo drives have limited range. Should a ship run out of Eezo it would be trapped. Therefore most local space travel has to be within range of a mass relay. You are fortunate in that you have a psyker amongst you in your Alpha. He will be able to act as Navigator, allowing the _Final Secret_ to make use of its warp drive. The placid nature of the warp means that the risks of warp travel are considerably reduced."

"That only poses greater risk." Rauth growled. Solarion remembered reading somewhere that the Exorcist chapter specialized in daemonic extermination. "We risk much by exposing ourselves so openly to the Immaterium."

Sigma smiled without humor. "Your Alpha understands the risks yes?" Karras nodded. "I have personally used a warp drive without difficulty here. And should something happen, you of all people know what should be done."

The Exorcist was quiet. _A prayer to save Karras' soul and a bolter round to his head to save the rest of us. _Solarion offered a quiet prayer to Guilliman that the Death Spectre be spared such a fate.

"Travel aside, these relays have one other, more important, characteristic. Watch." Red lines shot from relay to relay, linking them together.

"That's a hexagrammic ward." Karras hissed sharply. "A binding circle!"

"Exactly so." Sigma cried. "Exactly so."

"What is it Scholar?" Zeed asked the librarian. It was Rauth who answered.

"A sign of binding. It is used in Imperial spacecraft to seal the Gellar Fields. It seals the Immaterium away, preventing it from leaking into the material universe." The Exorcist raised a hand to trace a long red line between two gates. "But to build one on such scale…what effect would such a circle have?"

"The creators of the relays knew enough about warp science to understand what the effect would be." Sigma's sneered. "It funneled warp energy away from this galaxy, through the relays and elsewhere. Specifically, into Imperial space. "

"How so?" Solarion knew he wasn't going to like the answer.

"The Eye of Terror. The Ophidian Gulf Warp Rift. The Jericho Maw. The relays do not cause these things, but they exacerbate them, giving them greater longevity and power."

Sigma confirmed Solarion's fears. "Warp activity across the Imperium is increasingly violent because of these relays. They push what would be a manageable amount of energy from this galaxy into our own. That energy feeds the power of the Enemy. Several of my colleagues have studied the phenomenon, and they estimate that the relays are directly connected to upwards of six hundred billion dead over the past century. Moreover…" Solarion knew Sigma was hurrying to prevent a furious outburst. "aside from fueling these storms, the relays have begun to push xenos from this galaxy into our own. As if the damage they already did was not enough."

"These relays will burn." Solarion snarled. "Their creators will burn. Such heresy cannot be allowed to continue."

"I could not agree more." Sigma replied. "These relays and their masters will be destroyed. But not by you."

"Our task was to seal the Jericho Maw." Zeed snapped. "Who else but the Astartes are fit to complete such a task?"

The star map vanished, the stars and planets replaced by a video feed of what Solarion assumed was a medicus lab. A man lay strapped to a table, muscular frame ministered over by faceless men in white coats.

"Who is this?" Zeed asked. "Is this what you expect to replace us?" he spat, acidic saliva sizzling on the metal deck. "He is just a mortal man. A broken one. Give me the foe Sigma, we'll break the relays."

"This is no mere man." Sigma retorted. "In this galaxy, this _mere mortal _is considered the greatest hero to ever live."

"So what?" Zeed laughed. "I could kill him with my eyes closed."

"Could you kill the army he would bring with him?" Sigma snorted derisively. "John Shepard is my chosen tool, not because he is a master of battle like you and your battle brothers Ghost, but because he will serve as a rallying cry." The Inquisitor ignored Zeed's snicker of disbelief. "The creatures of this galaxy, men and xenos, might rally around this man, given the right circumstances."

"You intend to create a pawn." Karras murmured. "A tool to mask our presence."

"Correct." Above them, a white coat injected a dark purple fluid into Shepard's neck. "Your purpose is to ensure our pawn remains alive, and more importantly, _obedient_."

"That still does not lead us to those responsible for the relays." Chyron rumbled. "The Imperium owes such beasts a debt of bloody vengeance." Solarion couldn't help but growl in agreement. If the Inquisitor, the relays were responsible for trillions of deaths, and billions of burned worlds.

"Again, Shepard is the key." Shepard flickered and vanished. A bizarre ship appeared. More creature than vessel, the ship swirled and writhed like a trapped fish. "This was a xenos the size of an Imperial frigate, dubbed Sovereign. Two years ago this monstrosity attacked the local center of galactic power. It wielded immense influence over a wide network of supplicants and followers of multiple races, including humans." Sigma spat. "The creature was killed by Shepard."

Solarion had newfound respect for Sigma's pawn. A xenos of that size was no mean feat to bring down.

"Shepard believed the creature was one of a race of beings called the Reapers, and that they intended to wipe out all life in this galaxy. It was the Reapers who, I believe, constructed the relays. For what purpose I do not know, perhaps the blowback of warp energy was even unintentional. Either way, Shepard will not rest until he has destroyed them."

"Can he destroy them?" Voss asked. "He is only a man. Men die."

"The question is not if he can, but if _you_ can." Sigma smiled. "Shepard is needed to destroy the relays and uncover the hiding place of the Reapers. Their destruction, I leave to you."

The very air in the bridge seemed to change. Solarion felt an eager, almost wild energy emanating from his brothers. His two hearts beat a little faster in his chest.

"These aliens have raised their hands against the Imperium. Their foul creations have threatened His people." Sigma's voice was low. Solarion felt a terrible fury pressing against his mind. It flowed over him. In his minds eye, the Ultramarine saw a thousand worlds aflame.

_The Reapers work._ He snapped his jaw in rage. _There will be a reckoning_.

"You are to follow Shepard. Ensure he is successful, and ensure he survives. He will be our hunting hound, and will lead you, His hand of retribution, to a deserving victim."

Talon Squad growled in assent.

"Point the way Sigma." Karras muttered through clenched teeth. "Death Watch will visit ruin upon the enemies of Man."

"I know you will." The link clicked out.

"A glorious task is laid before us." Chyron rumbled. Solarion could hear bloodlust in the ancient marine's voice.

"It is a task we welcome brother." Karras spread his arms wide. "Sigma has given us a prey to hunt and a hound for the purpose." The librarian's usually red eyes flashed with a baleful blue fire. "Are we up for the chase brothers?"

Ultramarines prided themselves on their self control and discipline. They valued good order and calm thought. Just this once, Solarion allowed himself to howl furious affirmation with his battle brothers.

* * *

He woke to the wailing of alarms. He was lying on a surgery table, staring up at a brightly lit ceiling.

A woman was shouting at him.

"Wake up! You need to wake up!"

The voice was coming from a speaker on the ceiling.

He was restrained by automated cuffs. _Not good._ A door slid open, and a platinum white combat mech entered.

"Get out of there!" The cuffs popped open.

"Please remain calm." The mech droned in a calm monotone, spraying the table with thermal rounds.

_Not good._

He rolled off the table, the rounds hissing furiously overhead.

"You are deemed a security risk." The mech fired again, chasing him with gunfire. "Please hold still."

_Not good._

"Look out! There's a gun in the wall locker to your right!"

_Too far, no time._

He grabbed the first thing to hand, leaping over the surgery table to crash into the mech. He hammered down the mech's pistol, slamming the thing's head into the floor.

"Please hold stiiiiiiilllll..." The mech shut down, it's head and hard drive crushed by a metal microscope.

_Got you._

He snatched up the mech's pistol. Twenty rounds left. _Not enough._

"I need ammo!" He barked. His voice was hoarse.

"You're in a med bay." The voice snapped impatiently. "Get out of there! I'll try to find you some while we get you out."

He moved more slowly than he was used to, his entire body aching in pain. His bare feet padded on the floor of the lab. He hammered the door pad and swept out into the hallway, shifting to cover either end of the corridor.

"What's wrong with me?"

"You've been in surgery. Incoming, on your left, find cover!"

A door on the left exploded outwards, sending shrapnel whistling through the air. Deep scars were gouged in the white walls. He lurched back into the cover of the doorway as four mechs marched through the smoke.

"Please hold still."

_Fuck you._

He stepped out of cover, staying close to the wall, firing into the smoke. Thermal rounds whistled past him, and he used the muzzle flashes to mark the mechs. He let off four rounds, and he heard the telltale buzz of a mech failing. He kept moving, dropping down to swipe magazines from the dead mechs.

"Targets down, I have ammo."

"Take the door ahead of you. There will be three mechs in the next room."

He turned quickly, rushing through the smoke and sliding behind an overturned counter as thermal rounds rattled like rain off the shattered doorway.

_Two pistols. One assault rifle. Shit._

There was a mech moving up on his left. He put the rest of his magazine into its chest, dashing from cover towards the collapsing robot. The other two mechs paused for a moment, not comprehending the destruction of their companion. Then they caught up, and riddled the medical equipment opposite with fire.

He stayed low, sprinting from cover to cover, firing blindly over his head. Mechs were stupid, and would respond to gunfire by moving closer together. He popped his head out of cover to see the two remaining mechs standing next to each other emptying their weapons into the cabinet he'd just been hiding behind. Two bursts and they dropped like rag dolls. He stripped ammo from the bodies, and snatched up the assault rifle.

_Mattock 45 Harrier. Good weapon._

He heard a door open, and whirled around. Two mechs collapsed, three little holes in their optic lenses. He stepped over them and moved on down another hallway.

"Corridor to your left!" The woman sounded distracted.

He turned, came face to face with a mech, and acted without thinking. The butt of the rifle swung up, cracking it across what would be its jaw. It swung down again like a hammer, crushing the robots head on the floor. There was an angry squawk behind him. Another mech grabbed him around the neck from behind, trying to pull him into a headlock. Reaching behind him with his right, he seized the drone by the neck and jerked his hips, flipping the mech over his shoulder. His rifle barked and the drone went slack. Rounds hit the wall behind him.

_Not more of them._

He hauled the dead mech up, holding it in front of him like a shield, advancing down the hallway, firing over the shoulder of his makeshift cover. Another mech dropped. He dropped his now perforated shield and ducked into cover.

_Four more, either side of the doorway. Fuck!_

The four mechs were in heavy cover that the end of an otherwise open hallway. He couldn't advance..._hello._

The dead mech had a grenade bandolier. He grabbed two, sprayed the four mechs to drive them into cover, and launched the two explosives down the hall. As the grenades blasted smoke and fire past him, he unhooked the bandolier and pushed out of cover. The next room was empty, save for shattered mech limbs and smoldering furniture.

"Where to now?" No answer. The woman's voice was gone. _Flying blind._

He moved quickly, dashing across the room to the door opposite, depressing the door panel with his back, taking cover behind the frame. Gunfire sprayed through the doorway, and he heard clanking footsteps. Two mechs rushed into the room, sweeping for contacts. He slid past and dropped them both with a single burst. A mech ahead of him fired wildly, barely missing his head. The mech's head exploded as he emptied his magazine. He was now on a long bridge, flanked by a chest high wall on either side.

_Space station._

Well at least he had some idea of where he was. Gunfire rattled angrily to his right and he ducked behind the wall.

"Come on you sons of bitches!" An identical bridge extended in parallel to the one he stood on separated by maybe twenty feet of empty space and over three hundred feet of down. A little ahead of him, a man roared insults at a squad of mechs. The mechs had the man pinned. Five more seconds and the poor bastard would be a corpse.

He broke cover, sprinting as hard as he could down the length of the bridge till he was opposite the mech platoon. His last two grenades went over, blasting ten mechs into smoking ruins.

_Ten to go._

He gathered himself and leapt, sailing across the open space. He fired four times while in flight, dispatching three mechs. The last mech whirred, turned to face its attacked, and crumpled, shattering under his weight.

_Six more._

He fired blind, spraying from the hip. Mechs twitched and sparked, tumbling backwards off the bridge.

_Got em._

"Who the hell are you?" The man he'd saved approached slowly, rifle leveled. Clearly the man was ready to open fire if his savior turned hostile.

_Still wouldn't save you buddy._

He let his rifle fall to his side and turned to face the man, whose eyes went wide with shock.

"You, you're..."

_Yup. _

"John Shepard. Where am I?"


	5. V A Loose End

Chapter five!

As usual, I don't own anything, death watch characters belong to the brilliant Steven Parker.

I really appreciate the input from you guys, and want to say that going forwards I hope for more. You guys really add to the fun, and help me improve my writing. Feel free to PM me thoughts, ideas, critiques, whatever. And of course, don't forget to review!

Enjoy!

* * *

"Where am I?"

The man kept staring. "John Shepard's supposed to be in a coma."

"I woke up." _God knows how._ The last thing he remembered was being sucked out an airlock into deep space. _I should be dead._

"You can't be awake." The man stepped back, rifle stock sliding to his shoulder. "You were sedated." There was a look in the man's eyes Shepard didn't like. One he was very familiar with. "I need you to put that rifle down."

_That rifle is going to rise up..._

Shepard shifted his weight slightly to his back foot. He'd have a stable position to fire from.

"You really don't want to do that." He said.

"I'm not going to ask again." _He's gonna make me shoot him. Asshole._

A door behind the man slid open. A mech stepped out. Shepard put two shots through its chest before it could raise up its weapon, shooting over the man's left shoulder.

The man jumped. His rifle rose, too late to do any good. He looked like a deer in headlights for a split second, then saw the mech.

"Shit."

"Yeah." Shepard pushed the man's weapon down. "You done?"

_Prick._

"I'm sorry for drawing on you man."

"It's fine." Shepard cut him off. "Just tell me where the hell I am."

The guy shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I can't."

"The fuck you mean you can't?" Shepard snapped.

"I can't!" The man bit back. "It's classified."

"God dammit." Shepard gave a broken mech a frustrated kick. He'd forgotten he was barefoot. It really hurt.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." _Fucking oww! _"Can you tell me who you are at least?"

The man nodded. "Corporal Jacob Taylor, formerly Lance Corporal of Alliance Marines." There was a pause, then he quickly added a nervous: "Sir."

_Right, I'm a commander. Right. _Shepard's head hurt. He was having flashes, little sparks of memory, jumbled up and confused.

"Can you show me the way out of here Corporal?"

"Yes sir." The man pulled up his Omni Tool. "We've just got to get to a shuttle hangar two airlocks from here." he pointed to an open door ahead of them.

"Okay. Grab thermal clips off the mechs and let's go."

Corporal Taylor knew his business. They pushed forward through the doorway, and Taylor moved without instruction, checking corners and moving with speed. Shepard had a feeling that if he had his shit together he would have been impressed.

Shepard moved up, glancing quickly around a corner. He flashed a quick hand signal at Taylor behind him.

_Two hostiles. Out of cover._ Taylor nodded, stacking up behind Shepard. A tap on the shoulder, and Shepard stepped away from the wall. He turned quickly and fired two bursts. The mechs dropped.

"Clear, move up." He kept moving forwards till he reached the mechs, where he turned and faced back the way he'd come.

Taylor rushed past him, pausing only to snatch a thermal clip from Shepard. Taylor moved up to hug the wall, peeking around the next corner. The corporal flashed back a hand signal.

_One hostile, out of cover._

Shepard shuffled backwards till he was right behind Taylor. He gave the man a tap, and Taylor cleared the corner, gunning down the lone mech with practiced ease.

"Clear." Shepard turned and pushed up.

They continued like this for maybe ten minutes, leapfrogging over each other, dropping the few mechs they ran into.

_It's too empty._

"Where is everyone?" Shepard asked as they passed what was definitely a cafeteria.

"I don't know sir." Taylor sounded nervous. "The station has at least fifty staff."

"Then why is there no sign of them?" Shepard saw an overturned tray lying on the floor, food splattered beneath it. The cafeteria looked like it had been about to serve lunch.

"You take the right. We're taking a look."

Two double doors into the kitchen swung open at the back of the cafeteria.

"Contact!" A trio of bulky mechs burst through, lighting up cafeteria with automatic fire. Shepard let off an entire thermal clip into one of the mechs, nearly getting his head blown off for the effort.

"Why didn't it go down!" He roared to Taylor.

"They're ORCUS Mechs!" Taylor shouted over the hurricane of gunfire. "Up armored LOKI's!" A round ricocheted off a steel counter and hit Taylor in the arm. "Aah! Fuck!"

"You good?" Shepard popped a new thermal clip into his rifle.

"I'm fucked." Taylor cursed. "Went right through my elbow." The limb hung limp, blood dribbling out of the Corporal's black and white uniform. "We can't stay here sir."

"How do we take these things out?"

"They're up armored, but they still think like LOKI's." Taylor sprayed one handed in the direction of the three mechs. The table he was hiding behind rattled as the trio focused their fire.

_Still dumb as shit._

"Can you sustain fire on them?"

"Yes sir!" Taylor shouted. "What are you going to do?"

"Just make them move together!" Shepard replied. He rose to a crouch, scurrying down the length of the table. Behind him, Taylor fired indiscriminately, drawing fire away from Shepard.

_Good boys. Just ignore me._

Shepard dashed down the cafeteria, using the long tables to stay out of sight. The mechs kept shooting at Taylor, totally oblivious.

Now closer to their position, Shepard could see the three mechs were indeed, up armored LOKI's. Unlike the fragile mechs he'd been smoking since he woke up, these three were coated with a layer of heavy armor. The entire front of their chassis was a wall of metal.

_No rear armor. Not meant to attack, just hold position. _

Shepard broke cover and hosed the trio from behind. The gunfire ceased, and the mechs fell forwards with a crash.

"Clear!"

Taylor came out from behind his table, arm hanging limply at his side. The corporal's dark face was pale.

_Blood loss._

"Medi-gel. Where?" Taylor looked surprised for a moment, then his brain caught up. "Wall locker, over there."

The locker refused to open without a security card. Shepard smashed the glass with his rifle butt and snatched up the little blue canisters from inside. He flipped one over, looking for the press that would inject the gel into the wound. There wasn't one.

"These look different."

"Spray canisters." Taylor gasped. "Give it here." The Corporal took the canister Shepard offered, holding it up and spraying a white mist into his arm. "Medi-gel got more advanced since you've been out sir." He hissed in pain. "Can...even reknit bone now." Taylor gave his arm an experimental flex. "I'll still be stiff, but it should do till I can get looked at."

"How long have I been out?" Shepard and Taylor pushed the doors into the kitchen open.

"I really can't...uuugh." Taylor stepped out again. Bodies lay in a huge pile, chivvied towards a portable trash incinerator by two janitor mechs.

A third was washing blood off the floor.

"Can we be of assistance?" The three mechs turned to face Shepard and the vomiting Taylor.

_Bodies in piles. Batarians with shovels. Mindior._

Shepard opened fire and turned the mechs into scrap. Stepping over a twitching mech, he pushed the incinerator onto its side. Two quick bursts from his rifle into the machine's mouth, and smoke started to billow outwards. Flames crackled angrily. In about two minutes the incinerator's fuel tank would explode, taking the whole kitchen with it.

Shepard turned on his heel and stormed out, grabbing the still retching Taylor by the arm.

"Let's go."

He had to half drag Taylor.

"I'm sorry sir..." The corporal mumbled, wiping sick from his lips. "I...I never saw anything like that."

_Lucky fucking duck._

"Don't worry about it. First time, everyone's like that."

"Were you sir?"

Shepard remembered a young man screaming wordlessly, emptying his fathers old shotgun into a Batarian's face.

_No. I was busy._

He didn't answer. Taylor kept looking at him as they left. He didn't look away till they heard the incinerator explode.

* * *

Chief Medical Officer Wilson shifted uncomfortably between his two companion ORCUS mechs. From within the mech control room, he watched as the fifty people he'd spent the last two years of his life with were gunned down.

"Sir, the mechs are clearing the station."

"Very good." The Illusive Man's voice crackled. "Well done Mr Wilson."

"I still don't see why this is entirely necessary sir..." Wilson winced as the two mechs stared down at him.

" As I have said before, it is important to see the results of Ms. Lawson's project."

"Yes sir, but killing the crew?"

"I don't like loose ends." The Illusive Man's voice was distorted by the comm link. If Wilson hadn't known it was the Illusive Man, he would have no idea who was on the other end of the line. "Are you going to be a loose end Mr. Wilson?"

"N..nu,nu,no sir!" Wilson stammered. _Fuck em. Better them than me right?_

"Good. Go rendezvous with Shepard and Taylor. Get off the station."

"What about Lawson?" If she survived, Wilson was fucked. The icy bitch would shoot him as soon as she saw him.

"Your...friends will deal with her." The Illusive Man's voice rattled with static. Or maybe laughter. "I suggest you find a way get to Shepard." The two ORCUS mechs stomped out.

"Jacob won't believe I'm innocent." Wilson mumbled. "He trusts Lawson."

"Then look innocent." The Illusive Man snorted.

"Sir?"

"Would mechs shoot the one controlling them?" The link clicked off.

Swallowing nervously, Wilson drew his pistol and pressed the barrel to the meaty part of his leg.

T

"Wilson has betrayed you Miss Lawson."

Miranda snarled furiously. She sprinted towards the hangar, the whistle of mass rounds ringing in her ears.

_I'm going to castrate that little prick!_

The station was in uproar, gunfire and screaming echoing through the halls. Wilson had turned the station's security detail against the staff, and the mechs were slaughtering the unarmed scientists.

At least Shepard would get out. She'd woken him up and sent Operative Taylor to get him. Taylor would get the commander out. That was what mattered. The Illusive Man was counting on her to ensure his tool for defeating the Reapers survived. She wouldn't fail. Not after all the trust he'd placed in her.

A mech came in to view ahead of her. A biotic amplified imbedded at the base of her skull glowed a brilliant vermillion as energy danced along her fingertips. The mech was crushed in an instant.

A door barred her path, guarded by two custom made Cerberus ORCUS mechs. She'd designed them herself. She blasted one through the door, leaping into the air as the other opened fire. Powerful, but terribly slow, the ORCUS mech didn't have time to turn before Miranda had emptied her pistol into the back of its head. Just beyond the shattered door, a cluster of LOKI mechs were jogging forwards to engage. Miranda launched the dead ORCUS like a rocket, sending the LOKIs scattering like broken ninepins.

Stopping only to change out her thermal clip, Miranda was off again, boots clicking on the floor. She had to make sure Shepard got off the station. She didn't have to be that worried surely, she told herself. Operative Taylor was a superb combat operative and Shepard...

_Oh God._

She hadn't told Taylor she'd woken Shepard up. A mobile Shepard would read infiltrator and impostor, not two years and four billion credits of hard work. They were going to kill each other.

She ran faster.

She was going to skin Wilson alive when she found him.

* * *

Jacob Taylor growled incoherently at the buzzing mech wrapped around his neck. It's partner lunged for him with a combat knife, aiming for Jacob's midsection. He batted the blade away, seized the mech by the neck, and smashed it's head through a glass window. He twisted like a fish and the other mech was cartwheeled on top of its partner. A blast from his assault rifle put them both to rest.

"Help! Help!"

_Fucking POG._

The station's med chief cowered in a corner, crying in panic as LOKI mechs swarmed their position. Taylor and Shepard had found Wilson hiding in a generator room, a nasty flesh wound in his thigh. Then mechs had poured in as if from nowhere, rushing mindlessly at them, buzzing madly.

"Shut the fuck up!" Taylor yelled. He stepped out from behind a now irreparably damaged generator, firing from the hip the crowd of mechs.

"They'll kill us all!" Wilson screamed. The med chief clutched his service pistol to his chest like a baby with a blanket.

"Either use that weapon on them or on yourself." Shepard ducked back into cover, ejecting a melted thermal clip from his rifle and slamming in a new one so smoothly he might've been at a shooting range instead of fighting for his life. Clips replaced, he swung back out of cover, pausing only to kick Wilson in his thigh. The medical chief cried out and clutched his leg, but Taylor soon saw him pull himself to his feet and began to fire.

Taylor's rifle hissed and sputtered. Steam poured from the barrel.

"Overheat!" He threw the now useless junk of metal away and drew his pistol. The mechs kept coming. He emptied his pistol into two LOKIs that were trying to climb over a generator and ducked back into cover. Across from him, Shepard was shouting something.

"In the back, look!"

Taylor looked, then jerked back when a pistol burst scorched the area his head had just been.

"What?"

"Fuel canisters!" Shepard shouted. "Aim for the red barrels!" The commander leaned out and fired. A fireball engulfed a dozen mechs, charring them to a crisp.

_Hell yeah._

Taylor followed suit. Another explosion. The mechs buzzed in confusion, stopping their assault to shuffle around like sheep.

_They don't have protocol for this. _

The mechs had been given a kill command by someone. But since they were controlled by a computer, all actions they took were preprogrammed. It was a trait that the Alliance military, and in Taylor's case, Cerberus commando teams used to combat mech forces. The stations mechs simply couldn't come up with a response to the explosions, so their programming told them to do nothing at all.

Taylor kept shooting.

When the smoke finally cleared, Taylor, Wilson, and Shepard stood alone, surrounded by the smoking ruins of the station's security detail.

"Everyone okay?"

"Good here." Taylor gave Shepard a thumbs up.

"I'm alive." Wilson grumbled, still clutching his leg.

"Grab what you can and let's go." Shepard grunted, prying an undamaged thermal clip from a dead mech.

Taylor found his rifle where he'd thrown it, the heavy Argus M-55's thermal meter no longer an angry red. He switched out the thermal clip and grabbed another two from the bandolier of a mech cut in half by shrapnel.

Wilson limped forwards eagerly. "It's not far now." The weasel faced man nearly tripped over a mech, but caught himself. He hobbled over to the door out of the generator room and began hammering on the access panel.

"The hangar is just through here. Can I have that medi-gel now?"

"Find your own." Taylor growled. _Coward._

"Give him one Corporal." Shepard's voice was calm, but cold. He didn't look happy. Taylor handed a canister over without another word.

The door opened and he hurried through it, followed closely by Shepard and Taylor.

"You can lose the weapons." Wilson said as the three jogged down another hallway. "We just took out most of the stations security."

"_We_ did." Taylor snapped. "You cried." Wilson ignored him.

"I doubt we'll run into anything else. Come on, it's just here." Wilson took a right. Up ahead was a huge blast door. Five bodies lay slumped against the door, Cerberus uniforms stained red.

_Gunned down trying to get out. _Taylor realized. _Poor bastards._

"Wilson, get that door open." Shepard barked. "Corporal, we cover him."

Taylor nodded. While Wilson delicately tried to open the door without touching the mangled corpse leaning on the console, he and Shepard knelt with weapons raised in front of it, ready to engage anything unfriendly inside the hangar.

After what felt like forever, the door rumbled and began to move. "Gotcha!" Wilson laughed. "We're out of here."

No mechs waited for them inside the hangar. Shepard and Taylor followed Wilson, breaking into a run as the medical chief sprinted towards a shuttle close to the hangar launch window.

"Come on!" Wilson yelled back.

"Sprightly for a guy who got shot in the leg._" _Taylor grumbled.

Shepard didn't answer.

They made the shuttle seconds after Wilson. The medical officer dashed up the gangplank and made a beeline for the cockpit, crashing into the pilot's seat. He fumbled for a minute with the control panel, then The engine hummed to life, and the rumble of thrusters filling the hangar.

"Get in!" Wilson shouted. "Hurry!"

Taylor made to board, but Shepard grabbed his arm.

"We've got one more passenger." He pointed.

Miranda Lawson was sprinting across the hangar, a YMIR mech in hot pursuit.

"Wilson!" Taylor shouted up the gangplank. "Do not take off!"

"What are you doing! Get on board!"

"Miranda's here! We're waiting for her!"

Wilson's head popped into view. He saw Miranda, and then saw the YMIR. He disappeared back into the shuttle.

"No time!" He called out. "Get in!"

"Taylor, get in there." Shepard growled. "Shoot him if he takes off."

"Yes sir." Taylor clambered aboard. In the cockpit, Wilson breathed a sigh of relief, quickly crushed when he felt the barrel of a rifle tap his skull.

* * *

Shepard broke into a jog, and then a run. He threw his pistol and clips aside, saving only one thermal and his rifle.

_"The YMIR is big but blind. Go straight in quick and it'll never see you."_

In the back of his mind, bellowed lectures by scarred men in combat fatigues were running like a movie. The woman slowed as he approached, opening her mouth to shout at him.

_There is a shield generator in the lower part of the YMIR's back. Damage there will cause the mech's systems to go critical._

"Get to the shuttle." He snapped, passing her at a sprint. She yelled something after him, but he didn't hear it.

_Remember, the YMIR is designed to explode on system death. A total system failure will cause an explosion you don't want to be around for. Once the system dies, you have twenty seconds to get the hell out of dodge._

He heard the YMIR bellowing like an angry foghorn. He slid between its legs, felt the heat of rocket exhaust as the mech fired at the deck some ten feet ahead of it. He turned over onto his stomach, firing at a section of cabling on the huge mech's lower back.

_In a pinch, use an overheated thermal clip as a detonation charge. Inserting one of these puppies into anything with an electrical charge and an explosive substance is no different from using det cord._

His rifle beeped in alarm, steam rising from the barrel. The mech bellowed in surprise, slowly turning to face its new attacker. Shepard scrambled to his feet, quickly swapping out thermal clips. He fired again, shredding open the YMIR's lower back. His rifle hissed, then cracked. The thermal pack popped up, ejecting the clip. He yanked it out, discarded the weapon, and grabbed on the the YMIR's leg.

_The tip of a overheated thermal clip is five thousand seven hundred and seventy eight degrees Kelvin. That gentlemen, is as hot as Earth's sun. Do not touch. _

For a second he clung there, a grim faced monkey on an angry metal tree. Then he stabbed the red hot head of the clip into the YMIR's back and leapt away. Shepard sprinted towards the shuttle. In his head, he was counting.

_Nineteen._

_Eighteen._

_Seventeen._

_Sixteen._

He became casually aware around thirteen seconds, that he had covered half the two hundred meter distance in only seven seconds. He didn't remember being this fast.

_Nine._

_Eight._

_Seven._

He reached the shuttle, scrambling up the gangplank and staggering into Corporal Taylor. The woman he'd passed lay on the floor, gasping for breath.

"He's aboard!" Taylor bellowed. " Go! Go! Go!"

The shuttle lifted off just as the YMIR exploded.

"You alright sir?" Corporal Taylor asked, pushing him into a seat. "Jesus Christ, where'd you learn a trick like that?"

"Kindergarten." Shepard replied. Taylor laughed. "Very funny sir..."

"She's got a gun." The woman had risen to her feet. She stepped up to the cockpit door, and before either Shepard or Taylor could do anything to stop her, shot Wilson through the back of the head.

* * *

God that felt good.

"What the fuck Miranda?"

Oh right, Taylor and Shepard.

"It's alright Jacob." She said, pushing Wilson's corpse out of the pilot's seat. She thumbed autopilot, and the ship's VI took over the controls.

"You can't just...whoa, whoa, whoa!" She turned around, and came face to face with a gun barrel.

Shepard had her at gunpoint, an expression of profound dislike on his face.


	6. VI Angel of Death

Hey guys! Chapter six up!

Read and review as always. I own nothing!

Enjoy!

* * *

Sigma prided himself on being a hard man to anger. His work naturally placed him and his colleagues under a certain level of stress, and Sigma handled the pressure remarkably well. He could handle alien terrors from beyond the veil, manage the pride and defiance of Death Watch operatives, and stomach the impudence of Imperial nobility and of his fellow Inquisitors. Beyond his stellar record of service, he was widely known within his Ordo as a man with ice for blood. But there was one thing that drove a man like Sigma to distraction;

Failure to follow orders.

He stood over a hospital bed, staring down at two years and billions of local currency in effort, now locked in an artificial coma. Miranda Lawson stood opposite. A very nervous medical officer tried to stay out of sight in the corner of the med bay.

"You." The medical officer flinched. "Out." The man fled.

"Why is John Shepard unconscious?"

"He threatened me." Oh Holy Terra he wished he could lash out. Every fiber of his being screamed in fury. He wanted to unleash his powers and scorch the arrogant Cerberus operative into ash.

"Did I say he should be rendered unconscious?"

"I felt that…" Miranda Lawson raised an eyebrow in surprise when Sigma cut her off with a swipe of his hand.

"Did I say he should be rendered unconscious, yes or no?"

"No sir."

"Right." Sigma knelt down and turned Shepard's head to one side. A small metal node blinked softly on the rear of his skull. "What is that?"

"It's a…"

"It's a control node." Sigma stood back up. "Isn't it?"

Miranda folded her arms. "If you know what it is sir, why are you asking?"

_I'm going to skin you alive._ "Did I say you were to install a control node?"

"I…." She jerked backwards as Sigma screamed into her face, spittle spraying across her cheeks.

"I did not!" Sigma roared. "I explicitly ordered you _not_ to install a control node! Didn't I?"

"It was necessary sir." She tried. "He was going to kill me."

"Then you should have died!" Sigma screamed. "Operative Taylor, in here now!"

Jacob Taylor dashed in.

"Sir?"

"Operative Taylor, did I order Ms. Lawson _not_ to install a control node in Commander Shepard?" Taylor looked from Sigma to Lawson. "Don't look at her! Answer me!"

"You did sir."

"I did what?"

"You did order not to install a control node in the Commander, sir." Sigma gave a humorless bark of laughter.

"Operative Taylor, give me your side arm." The commando mutely handed over his pistol, exchanging a bewildered glance with Lawson. The look turned to an expression of horror when Sigma leveled the pistol at Shepard's head.

"What are you doing sir?" Miranda gasped.

"I am fixing your mistake Ms. Lawson." Sigma snarled. "Project Lazarus is a failure. You have completely scrapped any possible good will we might have had with the good Commander. We now need to begin from scratch, and with a John Shepard who will have to be lobotomized so he can be controlled." He switched off the safety. "You have ruined two years of work in a single hour Ms. Lawson, well done."

Miranda said nothing. She fidgeted uncomfortably under his glare. _Arrogant, stuck up…_

"Sir, we can fix this."

Sigma straightened up to face Jacob Taylor. The commando shifted uncomfortably under the icy gaze of the Illusive Man. To his credit, he did try to meet Sigma's gaze, but he looked away.

"We can Operative Taylor? Really?"

"Yes sir."

"Do tell." Sigma waved the pistol at Lawson and Shepard. "How do we fix this?"

"We can explain things to the Commander sir." Sigma didn't cut him off, and Taylor straightened up, growing more confident. "He only wanted answers sir. He isn't unreasonable."

"He isn't unreasonable." Sigma muttered. "Isn't unreasonable. He's been forcibly sedated and restrained!" Sigma had never been so furious. In an hour, these two _disasters_ of human genetics had ruined everything he had worked so hard to build. A positive start to the relationship with Shepard was vital. There was almost no chance of that now. "I wouldn't trust someone who forcibly sedated me, would you?!"

Operative Taylor wilted under his boss's anger. "No I wouldn't sir."

"Get out Operative Taylor." The man saluted and rushed out.

"I'll go with him sir." Lawson made for the door, but Sigma stopped her.

"You will _not_." He snapped. "_STAY STILL_" the last words rippled with power. Lawson went rigid, and Sigma cursed. The woman stared blankly into nothingness, her eyes glazed and vacant.

_I've gone too far._

He'd lost control. A psyker was not meant to use their power impulsively. No man was immune to the temptation of power offered by the warp, Inquisitors especially. Down that road led possession and heresy. Sigma had let his anger take charge. _Emperor forgive this sinner_. Two hundred Pax Imperials and a flagellation in penance sounded about right. He took a deep breath.

"Remove the node." Mutely, still under Sigma's control, Lawson reached down and removed the blinking node. Shepard began to shift, eyes fluttering under his eyelids. "Now get out, send the medical officer back in. Consider yourself suspended until further notice. We will speak later." Lawson left.

On the bed, Shepard began to wake up. "Put him under for three more hours." Sigma grunted to the still nervous doctor. "Can you do anything with that node in his neck?"

"Sir?" The doctor looked like a deer in the headlights. He'd never been spoken to by the Illusive Man.

"The control node in his neck is not wanted. Can you reconfigure it into something else or does it need to be removed?"

The doctor gave the back of Shepard's head. "It's only a port sir. I can switch the control plug out for a command plug, an information relay, whatever you need."

"How long will that take?"

"Twenty minutes at the most sir."

"Good." Sigma left the pistol on a table as he made his way out. "I will contact you later."

On the bed, Shepard murmured to himself.

* * *

Karras felt the vibrations of atmospheric entry through the walls of the drop pod. In his armored fist, the Death Spectre gripped a treasure of his chapter. The force sword _Arquemann_ looked like any other power sword found in an Astartes in the hand of a librarian, the force sword acted like a conduit, funneling psychic energy through the blade. Even the slightest scratch would rip the soul from the blade's victim. Karras loved the sword. To the librarian's right, Ignacio Solarion checked his long barrelled Stalker bolter. The Ultramarine's hands were as steady as stone despite the shaking of the pod. Darrion Rauth tested the sharpness of a combat knife the size of a mortal man's sword. On Karras' helmet HUD, a green timer winked into existence with a beep. Thirty seconds till touchdown.

Karras opened his vox link.

"Talon, thirty seconds to impact. Status."

"Green." Omni grunted. The Imperial Fist leaned back in his restraints, the optics on his helm whirring and flashing. Voss tilted his head back while his optics connected to the optic link in the nose of his heavy bolter.

"Green." Rauth's voice crackled with static.

"Green." Solarion slid a magazine into his bolter with a click.

"Let me at them." Seifer Zeed was eager. Karras glanced to the right and saw the Raven Guard straining against his restraints, waiting with bated breath for the pod to make impact, and for the doors to fall away. When they did, Zeed would be unleashed on the foe, to do what he did best.

"Restrain yourself little raven." Chyron boomed. "Chyron of the Lamenters, ready to serve." Unlike the rest of Talon Squad, who were crammed into a single drop pod, Chyron deployed separately. The dreadnought's huge size meant that the old warrior deployed alone. Talon Squad would link up with the Lamenter once on the ground.

"Relax old one." Zeed retorted. "Enjoy yourself." There was a clank as Rauth punched Zeed's shoulder pauldron.

"Celebrate the Emperor's Work, not thine own."

Zeed laughed, and pushed back. Rauth shoved the Raven Guard, and beside him, Solarion snarled angrily.

"Lock it up!" Karras barked. "Pray to the Emperor and make ready for war."

Admonished, the rest of Talon fell silent. Karras' timer reached ten.

"Ten seconds!" Karras roared. "Death Watch, our Father calls us to war!"

Talon Squad growled like hunting dogs.

"He calls us to do His Work!" Karras cast his gaze around the pod to each of his brothers. "Are you prepared to serve?"

Talon Squad howled. Biscopea adrenal glands pumped adrenaline into the Astartes, both hearts beating like hammers on anvils. The world slowed to a crawl around them. In the corner of each marine's helmet HUD, the small green timer reached three seconds. Memory implants engaged, bringing their mission briefing back to the the marines' minds with perfect clarity.

"_Talon Squad, the planet below you is called Tuchanka. Your orders are to destroy a xenos tribal group on the surface." Talon Squad stood in semi circle around the comm module, looking at a projection of the planet. Radiation waves emanated from the surface in faint green waves._

"_There's life on this rock?" Omni snorted. "Where, underground?"_

_Sigma sneered in frustration. "If only Talon Three." A huge lizard like creature appeared. To Karras it looked like a cross between an ork and a Catachan crocodile. "These creatures are called Krogan."_

_Zeed leaned forwards, studying the xenos intently._

_"It looks like an Ork." The pale marine grinned. "Almost as big as you Omni. Bred for war. Good fighters are they Sigma?"_

_"Unfortunately." Sigma frowned. "Krogan are as violent as orks, almost as strong, and twice as clever." The xenos roared silently at an invisible enemy, raising a bulky rifle and firing one handed. "The planet these filthy creatures call home was destroyed by a nuclear war between two large tribal groups some thousand years ago. Ever since then, the Krogan have lived in tribal groups called clans, only unifying to make war on other xenos races off world, or to work as mercenaries."_

_The Krogan certainly looked capable to Karras. Maximmion Voss must have shared his opinion, because the Imperial Fist raised a hand and asked, "How large are these clans? A few dozen, hundreds?" _

"_They range from a few hundred males to upwards of five thousand Krogan warriors."_

_The Imperial Fist leaned back, blowing out his lips. "That's alot of xenos."_

"_More for us to send to oblivion tree stump." Zeed grinned._

_The xenos projection changed, replaced by two others. These two were nearly identical in Karras' eyes, their frog like faces topped by a wide red ridge of bone._

"_These are your targets, Urdnot Wrex and Urdnot Wreav, a pair of Krogan siblings. They belong to one of the smaller tribal groups. They are fighting a war with a larger tribal group headed by a Krogan called Muthag Vorn." The two Krogan were replaced by a massive xenos, easily twice the size of the brothers. Its face was a rictus of scar tissue and burn marks. "They are losing. Your objective is to ensure they are victorious."_

"_What's so important about these two frogs?" Solarion grunted. "Let the beasts kill each other."_

"_The Krogan have a history of armed raids across the galaxy. The Council, and the xenos connected with it spend a considerable amount of time ensuring that the Krogan are never able to mount a serious raid against their worlds. You will ensure that the conflict between the Urdnot clan and the Muthag clan escalates, and keeps the other clans on the planet. With the raids stopped, the xenos Council will move resources to other non military operations. This will improve our ability to remain unseen."_

_Karras saw his brothers nodding in approval. Space Marines weren't usually given to subtlety, but they approved of anything that gave them an edge. "A wise plan Inquisitor." Karras rumbled._

"_Thank you Alpha." The Inquisitor sounded pleased. "You will be especially important for this operation. I need you to first secure the lives of the two Urdnots, at which time I will give you further, specific instructions."_

"_Do not leave us in the dark Sigma." Karras grumbled. "My team must have some knowledge of the next stage."_

"_I need you to implant a suggestion into the minds of the brothers." Sigma said after a long pause. "You will convince them that they want to escalate the war against the other clans."_

_A map appeared. Large sections were covered by different colors. "This is a map of your area of operations. Everything in red is Urdnot." A small circle, surrounded by green, lit up._

_"Not a lot of land." Omni rumbled._

_"No indeed." Sigma agreed. "Everything in green is Muthag." Almost the entirety of the map lit up. "Vorn and the Urdnots are engaged here." A blue dot appeared. "This is a small bunker controlled by Urdnot. Vorn has besieged the bunker for two weeks." _

_The map zoomed in on the blue dot, changing from a map to a satellite feed. Karras watched huge armored xenos thunder across a broken battlefield, charging towards a smoking ruin from which poured a ride of gunfire._

_"You will insert behind Vorn's attack, and make your way to the bunker. Save the brothers, and ensure Vorn dies."_

_"How will we find the brute?" Solarion asked._

_"Krogan are led by warlords in the same way orks are led by a war boss. Vorn will have to meet you in battle if you attack him. To not do so would be to lose his position."_

_"Do we need heavier weapons?" Omni crossed his arms across his chest. _

_"Krogan are highly resistant to harm. They are heavily armed and armored. They also prefer to fight by hand than at range."_

_"Understood."_

_"Alpha, I would suggest you bring your blade with you. Launch in one hour. Sigma out."_

"_And the greedy and the covetous were blinded by the words of the Raven. And so it was the Raven drove the enemies of Him to do battle with one another." Rauth murmured._

"_Corax, my primarch." Zeed smiled._

"_Indeed." The Exorcist nodded. "At least one brother knows his chapter history." Rauth glanced at Solarion, who growled. Zeed laughed. "Watcher just rained on your honor Prophet. I'd study if I were you."_

"_Shut up." Solarion snapped. "Don't call me Prophet."_

_"Leave him be Ghost." Karras laughed. "All of you, see to your wargear. Be ready in half an hour."_

The drop pod hit the ground with a terrific boom. A second boom heralded the arrival of Chyron. Restraints hissed as they released. Drop pod doors blasted open. Outside, Karras could hear the angry roars of surprised and stunned xenos.

"To war Talon Squad!" Karras bellowed.

Zeed was first out of the pod, his gauntlets rippling with energy. On either hand, the Raven Guard wore a long bladed lightning claw, each claw made up of four foot long blades. Each blade crackled with energy, designed to carve open the side of a tank, or sheer through armor. He leapt for the first thing he saw, a large xenos carrying a massive shotgun. The alien stared in dumb shock at the nine foot blur headed for him. Surprise changed to agony as Zeed shredded its chest to ribbons.

Another xenos roared a challenge and swung its weapon like a club. Ghost ducked without changing speed, swung a claw, and severed the front of the xenos' head from the rest of it's skull.

To their credit the Krogan reacted quickly. The brutes leveled their weapons and opened fire. Their gunfire died in a storm of hundred caliber rounds. Omni stood at one of the pod doors, legs akimbo, pouring bolter fire into the xenos warriors. The hundred and fifty caliber rounds exploded in their targets, turning the Krogan into pools of gore.

Watcher and Prophet bailed out of the pod together, dashing to cover. Armed with Stalker bolters, the two marines took aim at the Krogan beyond Omni's field of fire, driving the approaching aliens into cover to slow their advance.

"Ghost!" Karras roared. "Link up with Chyron!" The dreadnought had landed just on the other side of a shattered building. Talon Squad could hear the dreadnought's assault cannon roar, and the raucous battle cry of the ancient dreadnought.

"Show me you mettle alien! Come to me so I can kill you!"

"Understood Scholar." Zeed sprinted towards the other drop pod, vaulting over a low wall and out of sight.

"Omni, move up to that wall." The Imperial Fist levered his heavy bolter easily, and sprinted to the wall. "Set!" he called back. "I have xenos advancing all along an eight hundred meter line."

"Understood." Karras jabbed a finger in Solarion's direction. "Solarion!"

"Yes Alpha." The Ultramarine joined Omni on the wall. Karras heard the Stalker Bolter boom. Beyond the wall, a xenos had a hole in its chest.

"Rauth, on me." The Exorcist fell in behind Karras without a word. "Chyron, are you with us?"

Chyron's voice was positively cheery. "I am Alpha." The dreadnought laughed. "I have missed killing a foe such as this."

"You can have all the killing you want." Karras grinned. "You, Omni, and Prophet will defend the drop pods to ensure our extract. Ghost, you will come with Watcher and myself. We will make for the bunker and then come back."

"You will be exposed en route Alpha." Solarion grumbled. "Voss and our Honored Brother can defend the drop pods."

"Not without a third pair of eyes to watch their rear. You stay here." Karras gripped the hilt of his force sword with both hands. A brief flash of pain staggered him as his fiery psychic third eye burst open in the middle of his forehead. Eldritch purple flame flowed up the blade of _Arquemann_.

"Check your chronometers. If we do not return in thirty minutes, we have failed and you will extract. Understood?"

Karras heard grim affirmations. Omni spat. Talon Squad did not like speaking of defeat.

"Watcher, Ghost, on me."

* * *

Zeed kicked a disemboweled xenos away. Another bellowed in pain as the Raven Guard slashed four long gashes across its face. Zeed stepped over the dying alien and punched a third in the throat.

"Come on!" He screamed. "Come on!"

A Krogan howled a challenge. Shoulder down, it barreled like a freight train toward Ghost. Zed laughed and charged. They met and the Krogan bowled the Astartes over. A huge hand crashed against Ghost's helmet.

_Emperor's blood!_ Zeed hadn't met many things that hit as hard as the huge lizard did.

He kicked the xenos off him. "Die filth!" He shoved both power claws into the beast's chest.

Even dead, the Krogan managed one more brutal punch before expiring.

"By the Throne these things can fight!" Ghost laughed. His brothers ignored him. Ghost grinned and lunged for another alien.

"Rauth, two on the left!" Karras shouted.

Rauth turned, saw two Krogan pulling a cannon like weapon into position on top of a barricade. He exhaled softly, and fired twice. The Krogan crumpled with burst skulls. Another xenos popped up behind a wall. It staggered and then collapsed. Rauth's bolt rounds had turned the alien's armor into shrapnel. A fourth Krogan tried to withdraw, but fell after only a few paces.

A noise behind him made the marine turn. Two xenos leapt for him. One hand in his bolter, Rauth drew his combat knife. With a single fluid motion, he emptied five rounds into the first xenos, spun past what was now only an armored suit full of guts, and buried his knife in the second Krogan's neck. He pushed the gargling alien to its knees, wrenched his blade free, and reloaded his bolter.

Ahead of him, Karras was a storm of purple fire. The librarian's force sword was a blur. Krogan fell away from the flaming blade like wheat before the scythe. Not given to retreat, and eager to close in hand to hand, the xenos charged for the Death Spectre.

Skilled and powerful though they were, Karras was better. With _Arquemann_ in hand, Karras was a storm of destruction. The force sword wailed as it cut, devouring the souls of its victims with terrible glee. Karras danced through the lizard like brutes, snuffing two xenos out with a wide stroke, catching another on the back swing. He leaned back to slide away from a wild haymaker, flicking the sword outward with a twist of his wrist. A Krogan collapsed clutching it's opened stomach.

"Incoming!" Rauth barked over the vox. "Twenty warriors and ten larger ones."

"How far is the objective?" Zeed barked, words slurred by battle.

"Two hundred meters." Karras replied. "We won't have time if we stay and fight them."

"We can't run from them." Ghost protested. "We can take them."

"No, we can't." Karras opened a squad wide link. "Talon Squad! Prophet, move up to support Ghost. Chyron, Omni, defend the drop pods. Watched and I will get to the bunker."

"We are getting strung out." Solarion snarled. "This will go badly."

"There isn't time to argue." Karras growled. "Do as I say." He ignored Solarion's sneer of annoyance and set off at a run, Rauth hot on his heels.

* * *

Wrex spat a gob of blood on the floor. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds. His brood brother lay in the corner, holding his guts in with one hand. They'd held Vorn's pigs off for days, but one of the stinking cowards managed to get a grenade in a firing port an hour ago. Wreav had taken the explosive on his gut, lying on top of the charge. Wrex loved the ugly bastard.

"Still with me brother?" Wrex hammered a new thermal clip into his machine gun.

"They can't kill me." Wreav spat. "Ooh that hurt."

"Then don't do it pyjak." Wrex chuckled. He hauled himself to his feet and opened up. He laughed. "Come on you varren fucking pyjaks! Come on!"

They were going to die. Wrex knew it, Wreav knew it. They were low on thermal clips, their cover was rapidly becoming useless, and they'd used the last medi-gel a day ago. Eventually Vorn's boys would break through. But until they did, the two Urdnots would keep killing them.

"Go back and tell Vorn to face me like a real Krogan!" Wreav bellowed. "Ohhh damn me."

Wrex laughed and kept shooting.

* * *

Karras and Rauth sprinted toward the bunker, plowing through startled Krogan like battering rams.

"Sigma, come in!" Karras barked. "Sigma, do you read?"

"I read." The Inquisitor's voice crackled. "Are you at the bunker?"

Karras leapt over a burnt out vehicle chassis. "I am! Rauth, cover here!" Rauth vaulted over the wreck, turned, and opened fire. "Orders?"

"Get to the target. This is very simple, but it must be done exactly as I say. I need you to embed the following command in the heads of the targets: _The Krogan must be united. Only we can unite all Krogan. We must be united to defeat the Genophage._"

"The Genophage?"

"There is no time!" Sigma snapped. "Do you understand?"

"I understand." Karras grunted.

"Go, contact me when it is done. I will explain then."

* * *

The xenos charged Talon Squad's position with the fury of demons. Any other force in the world would have moved. Even other space marines would have been hard pressed by the ferocity of the assault. But not Maximmion Voss. Maximmion Voss was an Imperial Fist, and no force in the universe could make a son of Rogal Dorn abandon his position. The barrel of his heavy bolter glowed cherry red. Shells rained down, pattering off the stone by Voss' feet.

"Is this what passes for fury amongst your misbegotten kind alien?" He roared. Before him, Krogan burst into clouds of red mist. His armor was pockmarked by enemy fire, and his targeting optics were shattered. He was bleeding somewhere, but he barely felt it. Maximmion Voss was a master of defense, and right now, he felt like a god of war.

"Come aliens!" Beside him, the huge form of Chyron howled his hate at the oncoming xenos horde. "Chyron of the Lamenters will teach you to die!"

The two marines stood back to back, forming an immovable tower of ceramite and burning death. Voss' blood surged. He was made for this.

"Tell your gods you died by Astartes hands!"

* * *

Ignacio Solarion pumped three round bursts into targets as he ran. No shot missed. Every target fell. He moved from cover to cover, dashing in and out of view, exposing his position only long enough to get off another shot. His tutor would have been proud. Torias Telion had often said Solarion was the finest marksman in the Ultramarines, and against the Krogan the words rang true. The xenos were bewildered by the speed of Solarion's movement, firing at the places they thought he had been, only to be engaged from a new position.

"Forty five." Solarion tallied another kill. He reloaded his Stalker bolter and moved on towards kill forty six.

* * *

Seifer Zeed was beginning to tire. He'd killed dozens of xenos, but they were catching up to him. The beasts were strong. His armor was scratched and dented from blows by their fists and weapons. He slashed his claws wildly in front of him, cutting two Krogan down. Another died from a kick to the skull. A fourth was lifted off its feet and slammed to the floor, a power claw through its face. A body collided with Zeed's shoulder, sending him to the floor. Two Krogan had tackled him, pummeling him with their rifle butts. Roaring like a mad man, Zeed broke free, lashing out with his claws. The Krogan died loudly, howling in pain. Another stepped forwards, and swung his weapon like a bat, knocking the Raven Guard off his feet.

"Die!"

Zeed rolled desperately to the right, scrambling to get back to his feet. A soft thump, and the Krogan sank to the ground. Zeed looked around for the one responsible for stealing his kill. Prophet waved from atop a ruin. Zeed made a rude hand gesture. He'd have to thank the stuffy marine later.

* * *

It was over.

Wrex had been hit by a sniper. His entire left shoulder was shattered. Outside he could hear gunfire. Stupid cowards didn't dare advance. Too afraid of being shot.

"Hah!" Wrex laughed. "Weaklings." He collapsed beside his brother.

"Good run eh brother?" Wreav grinned.

"Yeah." Wrex gave Wreav a thump.

"Ah you bastard." Wreav wheezed. "That hurt." The sound of gunfire died away, save for a series of steady booms, and Wrex heard the sound of heavy footfalls outside the bunker. The only weapons still operable were a pair of heavy pistols. He pushed one into Wreav's hands.

"Don't be a weakling." Wrex chuckled. He passed out the last couple thermal clips. "Let's give em one to sing about." The brothers leveled their pistols. A dark shape came into view and they opened fire. Neither Krogan heard the clink of a flashbang.

* * *

Karras threw the flashbang on instinct. The two xenos nearly blew his head off. He waited for the thump of the flashbang and the twin bellows of pain.

Whumph

"Aaaagh!"

"Filthy pyjak!"

Karras slipped over the lip of the bunker. The two xenos lay on the floor, clutching their eyes. Tearing off his helm, Karras seized the two aliens by the collar of their armored suits and hauled them upright. Both growled incomprehensibly.

"_Listen and obey._" The librarian's voice echoed like a choir. Both aliens lurched in shock. Karras had experienced psychic suggestion before. It was like having icy needles driven into your skull. The two Krogan stared with glazed eyes at the astartes psyker.

"_The Krogan must be united. Only we can unite all Krogan. We must be united to defeat the Genophage._" Karras intoned. His voice boomed. Time stopped. He reached into the minds of the xenos, forcibly injecting the suggestion into the deepest part of their subconscious he could reach. He very literally, hit them in the childhood. The suggestion would take five minutes to inject.

"The… the Krogan must be united." One grunted.

"Only we can...unite all Krogan." the other mumbled.

"We must be united to defeat the Genophage." They droned together.

"_Again_." Karras barked. "_Again_." He made them say it until they chorused. A suggestion to multiple subjects had to be on the same wavelength for all subjects. If even one hadn't taken the suggestion, it could ruin the suggestion in all the subjects. He checked his chronometer. It'd been four minutes.

"The Krogan must be united." the pair spoke in perfect harmony. "Only we can unite all Krogan. We must be united to defeat the Genophage."

Karras nodded in satisfaction. The suggestion had taken. He could feel the suggestion worming its way into their brutish alien minds, associating with memories and experiences. As far as either would know, they had always wanted to unite their species. They would not remember Karras, save perhaps as a shadowy giant in half formed dreams. Karras pulled his helm back on, and climbed out of the bunker, leaving the two xenos mumbling to themselves.

He found Rauth standing alone, surrounded by bodies, his combat knife in one hand, his helmet in the other. The faceplate was cracked wide open. Blood poured down the Exorcist's face. Slowly, Rauth turned and faced Karras.

"Hello brother."

* * *

Vorn was furious. These little black armored shits were ruining his revenge. Fuck that. Fuck them.

"Go!" He roared. "Kill them all!" His warriors swarmed over the black warriors. Most would die. He was fine with that. The black warriors had killed most of the Urrtag Krogan, and half the Gorgal. Vorn didn't care. His own clan warriors were better than those weaklings. They'd bring the bastards down. The survivors would make his clan stronger. Vorn would leave them to it.

Vorn had business with the Urdnot brothers.

"Warlord!"One of his warriors bellowed. "Look! The black warriors are at the bunker!"

"What?" Sure enough, one of the black warriors stood in the open, the last few Krogan of clan Kabbor breaking off their assault. "No!"

So the bastards were here to help the Urdnots. Vorn snarled in rage.. He'd teach them to defy Muthag Vorn.

"You lot!" He bellowed to the Krogan around him. "With me!"

The krogan followed him without question. "Kill that one! Take the bunker!" His warriors roared. He felt alive. This is what a Krogan was meant to do.

The black warrior opened fire with his rifle. Around him, Vorn's warriors fell with great craters in their chests.

"Come on coward!" Vorn hefted his favorite weapon, a massive battle hammer. "Face me!" To his immense satisfaction, the black warrior stopped shooting and drew a long blade. Vorn sped up, his Krogan by his side.

* * *

Darrion Rauth was out of ammunition. The giant xenos barreled towards him, a huge hammer raised above it's head.

Two smaller xenos sprinted ahead of their leader. They fell back with deep gashes in their scaly throats. Rauth didn't fight like his battle brothers did. Seifer Zeed fought with flourish and style, reveling in his own skill. Solarion attempted to excel, to outshine his brothers. Voss was a stone to break the enemy against. Karras was a storm of power and fury. Rauth fought with an economy of motion. The next Krogan to step forward died from a single thrust through the mouth. The xenos behind it suffocated when a sharp kick crushed its chest cavity. A xenos tried to tackle the Exorcist, but Rauth side stepped, and slashed downwards, lopping the creature's head plate off. Then the wind flew from his lungs, and Rauth was propelled through the air.

"Die!" The huge xenos with the hammer trundled forwards, a wicked grin on it's frog like face. The hammer came up and down again, bouncing off of Rauth's chest plate. The Exorcist wheezed.

"Is this it weakling?" The xenos laughed. "Is this all you can do? Agh!" Rauth slashed open the creature's leg. It collapsed to one knee. "You bastard!" It lunged with its hammer, and Rauth's head rocked back. His helmet was cracked open. His left cheek bone was broken, as was his nose. The world spun. He was dimly aware of the xenos raising its hammer again, and he slashed with his combat knife. The blade snagged on the bones around the creature's mouth, then carried through. The beast collapsed with its head neatly in two pieces.

"And Lo...I beheld an Angel of Death." Rauth hauled himself upright. "And the name of him was Exorcist. And the Emperor's Wrath followed with him." He tore off his shattered helm, gasping for air.

He saw Karras climbing out of the bunker to his right. The librarian stared at Rauth.

"Hello brother."

* * *

"Are you alright brother?" Karras asked.

"I am yet among the living." Rauth answered.

The Exorcist cleaned his combat knife off on the body of a xenos warrior.

"Talon, this is Alpha. We are successful." Karras heard his brothers growl approval.

"They are breaking off and fleeing Alpha." Solarion said across the vox.

"Kill them all." There could be no one left to tell of Talon's passing. "Then let's get off this rock."

* * *

_"Mission successful."_

"Well done Talon Alpha." Sigma leaned back in his chair, and closed the link. The Krogan would lower the chance of Talon Squad being discovered. And one day, perhaps the ugly brutes would become useful. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair for a moment. He still had to fix Lawson's mistake.

"Call Doctor Jung's med bay. Hello, yes doctor, wake our patient up. I'm on my way."

* * *

John Shepard woke up in restraints for the second time that day. A man loomed over him, smiling kindly.

"Hello John."

"Where am I? Who are you?"

"I'm the Illusive Man." The man gave Shepard's chest a pat. "You and I have a lot to talk about."


	7. VII A Hard Man

Hey guys, I managed to crank out one update. It's a bit shorter than usual, but hopefully it'll tide yall over till I get back. Secondly, I want to point something out. I am not faithful to canon. It makes for boring writing. As a fan of both warhammer and mass effect, I try to portray the characters I write as I would expect them to behave. Some are based on people I have met. Technological disparity is taken into account, but I do try to put these technologies into context. My primary goal is to write an engaging story. I've seen only one case in the reviews were one person made a remark about another's opinion, but one is enough. Do not, I repeat, do not, have a "my fandom is better than yours" dick waving contest. It irritates me and is not constructive. The review section is for ccomments, critique, suggestions, questions, and discussion. It is not for arguing whose war like super soldier is better.

Hope to hear from you all soon

Mephisteron.

* * *

TIllusive Man looked like a priest. John had been in enough military hospitals to recognize the black frock and tight white collar of an Old Church clergyman. The man wore a paternal smile. His eyes, an unnaturally bright blue, sparkled cheerily.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been electrocuted." There were straps on John's wrists, keeping his arms reaching back behind his head. Two reinforced links chained John to the wall. Clearly restrained patients weren't a new problem. He gave them an experimental tug. _Too sturdy_.

He lay in a hospital bed, surrounded by pale green hospital curtains. The white walls reflected the ceiling lights into a blinding shine. A fan thrummed gently beyond the green curtains. Aside from the fan, there was silence. No normal hospital was this silent. _Not medical, probably a research lab_.

"Yes, I wanted to apologize for the unfortunate circumstances that transpired since you returned to the world of the living." The man drew a small metal object from his breast pocket and dropped it on the bed. "This was installed by Ms. Lawson in the back of your neck."

_That's a submission plug._ The recollection came with a wave of unbidden memory._ Salarian STG operatives in restraints, electric shocks, instantaneous loss of consciousness. Classified military technology. A civilian shouldn't have access._ John heard a voice in the back of his mind. It was the same voice that had told him how to kill the YMIR.

_Always appear to know less than you do. Gather intelligence even when under questioning. It will assist in your escape. An N7 is always gathering information. _

John looked at it for a moment, then back up at the man. "What is it?"

The light was too bright for the room. No one could work in a room this bright. But the lights made John blind. He couldn't see shadows or silhouettes beyond the green curtains. For all he knew, there was a ten man security detail out there, just waiting for him to try to escape. _They want to make sure I don't take risks._

"It's called a submission plug." The man frowned. "It's used usually in Alliance military prisons. When activated, the plug sends an electrical charge into the wearer's brain, rendering them catatonic." The device was returned to the Illusive Man's jacket pocket. "I did not order her to install this device, and I apologize profusely. It is my sincere hope you can forgive this transgression, and we can move past these unfortunate happenings."

_He just lied. He's hiding something._

"Why was it in my neck in the first place?" John's whole body ached. His restraints kept his wrists elevated at an awkward position, and the stress of the position was making his elbows scream in protest.

The Illusive Man rocked back on his heels, sighing with exasperation. "Ms. Lawson was under the impression that you needed to be restrained. She is being...disciplined for this misunderstanding."

_Total body movement. Not practiced. Honest._ The Illusive Man clearly hadn't wanted Shepard to get in a fight with his people. _Why would he be upset?_

John said nothing. The lights were making his head hurt.

"Now, if you like, I can undo those straps and we can get on with more important things."

John jerked the straps. "Any time you're ready man." He really disliked the feeling of restraints. "Get these off me." The man flashed John a wide smile and gently poked his chest.

"I'd like not to worry about you taking your quite justified frustration out on me Commander, I really would. But, I'm afraid a man of my age must worry." He kept smiling, but his eyes weren't in it anymore.

"I will need your word before I release you Commander." The man looked down at him expectantly. He leaned back, and John noticed the pistol on his belt.

_Will he waste me if I say no?_

"No worries." John shifted his arms, sending a flash of pain shooting through his shoulder. He winced. "I'll be good."

_Appear more injured than you are. A captor who thinks you're injured will not prioritize keeping you secure._

"Excellent, Osip!" A wire thin man stepped around the green curtains.

"Sir?" The man's voice was hard. It was the voice gravel would have if it could talk. _Earthborn, eastern Europe, probably Russia._

"Remove the good Commander's restraints please." The Illusive Man smiled. "Thank you." He gestured to the man. "This is Osip, my assistant. He's quite useful, aren't you Osip?"

"Yes sir." The man, Osip, unlike his boss, didn't smile. John felt the restraints loosen, then fall away. He gasped in pain when his arms relaxed.

"Help him Osip." The Illusive Man took John by one arm. With Osip supporting his left, the two men helped John out of his bed.

"Sore eh?"

"Yeah." John grunted.

"Osip, there are painkillers in the farthest left drawer." John leaned heavily on the Illusive Man.

_No drugs. Medication weakens cognitive ability and reflexes_.

"No! No. I'll be alright." He hauled himself upright, his legs hissing in protest.

"If you're sure…." John allowed Osip to hold the curtain back for him. Together, the three men stepped out of what was indeed a lab, and into a hallway. Large observation windows flanked one wall, looking out at the fiery glow of a huge red giant. The Illusive Man walked a few steps ahead of him, Osip a few steps behind. Despite the Illusive Man's friendliness, John knew when he was being guarded. Soft rumbling echoed through the hallway, so quiet as to be barely noticeable.

_Pay attention to your surroundings. Environmental awareness is key to staying alive._

Any spacecraft with an artificial gravity generator maintained a general background noise. On a space station, the sound of the generator would become less and less noticeable the further someone got from the station core. Outside of a half kilometer, the sound would be almost impossible to hear. Only military installations and large scale mining rigs were built in excess of a kilometer in diameter. Largely automated, mining rigs didn't have gravity generators.

_This is a military station, a big one._

"Where are we?"

"A station on the outer edge of the Terminus." The Illusive Man answered. "It used to be an Alliance refueling station. We refitted it to suit our needs."

"Whose we?"

The Illusive Man paused outside a door. "You don't know?"

Shepard looked at him blankly. The man's face tightened with annoyance. "I told Lawson to brief you."

"Well, she didn't."

"Evidently not. It falls to me then."

John heard Osip step out from behind him. _He's got a clear angle on me._ There was a soft click. _That's a weapon safety switching off._

John felt decidedly vulnerable.

"What's the last thing you remember Commander? Before waking up in our tender care I mean."

_Fire, the Normandy depressurizing, dead crew, dead team, dead him._

_Dead John Shepard_.

The room swam. He'd died. He remembered, with painful, agonizing, clarity, scratching at his throat as his lungs burned and his esophagus collapsed. He remembered watching a crewman's head burst like a ripe grape when his visor cracked and the vacuum of space crushed his skull.

_How am I alive?_ He felt himself stagger and fall forwards. He opened his eyes and saw the deck rushing towards him.

A pair of hands caught him before he fell. "Steady Commander." The Illusive Man guided him to the floor, sitting the Commander with his back to the wall. "What do you remember?"

"I died."

"Yes." Apparently satisfied Shepard wasn't going to fall over, the Illusive Man stepped back. "You did, two years ago, in an attack on your ship during a patrol in the Attican Traverse."

"Two years?" _This isn't possible. _"You're lying."

The Illusive Man spread his hands wide. "Why would I lie?"

"I'm a Specter." _This is a trick._ "I can think of a few reasons."_ It has to be a trick._

The Illusive Man laughed aloud. John heard Osip chuckled quietly to his right. "John, can I call you John? If I wanted to manipulate a Council Specter, don't you think there are easier ways to do it?"

"You _can't_ bring someone back to life." _False memories. Implants. Hallucinogenic drugs. _"This has to be a trick."

"John, let me show you something." The Illusive Man knelt so he and Shepard were face to face. The man's Omni Tool glowed. "Search: John Shepard dead."

_Commander John Shepard has been reported killed in action…._

_First Human Specter John Shepard killed with his crew…._

_Day of mourning for fallen hero…._

_Council releases statement in commemoration…._

_Citadel will observe an hour of silence…._

"You died Commander." Shepard's stomach lurched violently as he watched the titles scroll. His entire crew, his team, all dead. He'd gotten some out. He was sure, well he hoped he was sure, he had. _I died. Oh God…._

His stomach lost the war with nausea and he gagged violently. The Illusive Man slapped his back, and waited patiently for him to stop vomiting.

"Take it easy John. I know its alot to take in." _Fuck you._ Anger stormed through John's brain. _Why'd you bring me back? I was dead! Why'd you make me come back? I should have stayed with my crew._

"Don't _fucking_ touch me." John shoved the Illusive Man away from him. In an instant he was on the floor, Osip's knee pressed into his back. A gun barrel tickled the back of his head.

"Osip!" The Illusive Man's voice changed, from paternal gentleness to thunderous anger. "Off him, now!"

"Sir." The pressure on Shepard's back vanished. The pistol stayed.

"Holster your weapon."

"He's hostile sir."

"Do it now!" The Illusive Man roared. The pistol was holstered. "Thank you." The Illusive Man stepped towards Shepard slowly. "I don't want to hurt you John. But if you attack me again, I will have to."

John ignored him. He threw up again.

"Damn it all." The Illusive Man growled. "Osip, stand him up." Shepard let himself be hauled to his feet, hanging limply in the man's unusually strong grip. His head ached, and his stomach was doing back flips. Every inch of him hurt. _Oh God…._

Suddenly his head was slammed violently to one side. Bright sparks of pain shot across his face. The Illusive Man had slapped him.

"This is _not_ the John Shepard I remember!" The friendly priest was gone. Instincts, ten years old, kicked into gear. _Drill Instructor speaking! Stand straight!_ His body lurched in surprise, slow to react to the terrified signals of his brain. Another slap.

"I don't remember John Shepard being a _fucking pussy!_" The Illusive Man screamed into John's face. "Is that what you are now? A _fucking baby?_"

Shepard was ramrod straight. "Answer me!" The Illusive Man slapped him again, leaning in so he and Shepard were nose to nose.

"No." John glared back at the man's angry bright blue eyes. "I'm not."

"Then _fucking_ suck it up!" The Illusive Man roared. "I was told you were a hard man Shepard, but so far I'm not impressed."

"I died!" Shepard snarled.

"So what?" The Illusive Man shoved him hard in the chest. Shepard immediately moved to push back. Osip grabbed him and pushed him against the wall. "So _fucking_ what? You're John Shepard! You killed Saren Arterius! You survived Akuze when fifty others died or went mad! You are tougher than this!"

"Fuck you." Shepard struggled violently against the man restraining him, but assistant was stronger than he looked. "Fuck you."

"Thats right." The Illusive Man sneered. "Get it out. Come on, curse, cry, tell me how you feel bad."

"Shut the fuck up." Shepard lunged forwards, only to be slammed back. "I'm gonna kill you."

"I should have left you dead." The Illusive Man spat. "I was told you defeated Sovereign. I was told you could defeat the Reapers. Clearly I was wrong."

_Sovereign. The Reapers._

"What did you say?"

"Hmm?" The Illusive Man waved his assistant away from Shepard. "What did I say?"

"The Reapers."

"They're still out there you waste of space." The Illusive Man snarled. "You know it, I know it. I brought you back because you know how to make the bastards die." He turned away. "Clearly I was wrong."

"How do you know they're still out there?"

"What do you care?" The Illusive Man laughed humorlessly.

"Fuck you." Shepard shoved the Illusive Man so hard the man stumbled. "What happened?"

"Colonies, in the Terminus Systems." The Illusive Man rubbed his chest. "They've been going dark. First communications are lost, then twenty four hours later, all the colonists go missing."

"That could be pirates."

"No." The Illusive Man shook his head. "The colonies are never damaged. There's never any fighting. The colonists just...vanish."

"How does that indicate Reaper involvement?"

The Illusive Man looked at him for a long time before replying. "We have intelligence, very good intelligence, that says they are."

"Show it to me." Shepard snapped. _Eden Prime._ "Now."

The Illusive Man raised his hands. "I will. I promise I will. But first, I need to know you're squared away. I cannot risk trying to stop the Reapers if the best man available is crying himself to sleep."

"I'm there." _Colonists on spikes. The Citadel in flames._ "If it is Reapers, I'm there."

"Good." The Illusive Man smiled. "I knew you'd be on board. It's why we brought you back."

The Illusive Man turned to face the door behind him, bowing to stare into a lens on the door lock. A green light scanned his face and the door slid open. He straightened up, and stepped through the doorway.

"Follow me. We have some work to do."

Shepard paused at the entrance, but the Illusive Man's assistant put his hand on Shepard's back and pushed him forwards.

He'd been led into an armory. Rack upon rack of rifles sat on the walls. Combat hard suits hung from the ceiling in storage harnesses. Repair mechs tottered drowsily up and down the armory, inspecting the racks and cleaning weapons. A window at the end of the room gazed out into a darkened hangar bay.

"My organization has spent a considerable amount of time and money on you Shepard." The Illusive Man gestured to the racks and racks of weaponry. "Bringing you back, preparing an arsenal for you, organizing resources for you…."

Shepard peered over a mech's shoulder. "These are Alliance grade battle rifles."

"They're better than that." The Illusive Man's voice was tinged with pride. "There's not a weapon system better in any military arsenal in the galaxy."

"How'd you get it? Who are you?"

"Have you heard of an organization called Cerberus?" Osip leant against metal table, snatching a battle rifle from a passing mech.

"Yeah." _Human centric terrorist organization, unusually well financed._ "I have."

"I founded Cerberus." The Illusive Man gave Shepard a short bow. "I lead the organization."

"You're a wanted man. The Alliance has been looking for you for years."

"Not really." The Illusive Man smirked. "I'm too rich to _really_ be looked for." He tapped a key on his Omni Tool. "I will answer any questions you have about my organization later. But for now, it's enough that we brought you back. There is information of a more immediate nature that I need you to understand."

A full body projection of John Shepard appeared, hovering over the Illusive Man's wrist. The projection looked like it'd been put through the ringer. Shepard's chest was crushed, his head was cracked open, and his neck was a crumpled mess.

"This is you two years ago." The Illusive Man waved a hand. Red marks appeared all across Shepard's body. "Everywhere marked in red was totally destroyed. Ms. Lawson, with whom you regrettably did not get along, was in command of an operation we called Project Lazarus."

Another wave, and Shepard's body changed into a skeleton. "Almost every single bone in your body was shattered. We replaced them."

"Replaced?"

"With titanium alloy." Osip grunted. "Non magnetic, non conductive. You shouldn't be able to even fracture a bone."

"Your lungs and throat were destroyed in vacuum. Lawson installed artificially grown replacements. You have three times the lung capacity of a normal man."

John couldn't stop his laugh. "What, I'm super human now?"

"No." The Illusive Man smiled back. "But close. A series of other augmentations were made. Synthetic muscle fibers, a second adrenal gland and a more powerful liver, things like that."

"That everything?"

The Illusive Man pursed his lips. "You've been experiencing flashes of memory yes? Incredibly vivid recollections as if from no where."

Shepard nodded.

"When we found you, you'd already suffered severe brain damage. Two years of death didn't help much either. Cerberus had access to the most advanced technologies in the galaxy, but even we can't fix brain death."

"What're you saying?"

"Most of your brain's basic functions now exist on computer chips." The Illusive Man sounded apologetic. "It was the only way to bring you back. All your life functions were automated and turned on. Fortunately, when your body started working, so too did the part of you we couldn't replace."

"I'm a cyborg."

"Effectively yes."

Shepard blew out a long breath of air. "Well, this is new."

"Not the best thing to wake up to, I realize." The Illusive Man closed his Omni Tool. "But you must understand John, we were, are, desperate."

"No kidding." John snorted. "You went to a lot of trouble."

"The threat posed by the Reapers makes any price inconsequential." The Illusive Man stared unblinkingly into John's eyes. "I brought you back John, because humanity needs someone willing to do the unthinkable. We need a hard man for a hard task, and I believe you are that man."

"I already said." Shepard grunted. "I'm in. I just need to see the intel you have on the vanishing colonists."

"All intel Cerberus had will be forwarded to your ship computer this evening."

"My ship?"

The Illusive Man waved dismissively. "Osip, the hangar."

The wiry assistant left the armory. There was a rumble, and the Normandy appeared in the darkness. It was a little bigger than the old ship, a little cleaner, and a little more angular, but it was definitely the Normandy.

The Illusive Man stood beside Shepard at the observation window. "We rebuilt her. Made some improvements, some alterations, but at the end of the day, it's the same ship."

Shepard didn't trust himself to answer.

"We have also secured the services of an old crewman of yours." The Illusive Man beckoned to someone behind him, and John turned. Jeff Moreau hobbled towards him, grinning widely.

"They finally turned you back on!"

"Joker?"

"It's been a long time boss!"

For a moment, John genuinely felt like crying.


	8. VIII Know No Fear

Hey guys, I've finally gotten back from FTX. This chapter is much shorter than usual, but updates will get longer again as I get more sleep. I wanted to spend a little time examining Talon Squad. I really appreciate you guys' patience. As usual, I own nothing. Read and review!

Mephisteron

* * *

Solarion watched two spider like arms stretch down and seamlessly rip the rib cage of Muthag Vorn apart. Four smaller arms flashed downwards, and buzzing like angry bees, cut the xenos warlord's corpse into individual parts. Every organ, muscle fiber, bone, tendon, and nerve strand would be analyzed, the data recorded, and anything of import would be preserved for future study. The rest would be incinerated. On a holo screen in front of him, Solarion could read the autopsy report as the dissection logic engine compiled data.

Another beast was already in the later stages of dissection, reduced to a large gory skeleton. Solarion watched a metal arm wrench a bolt round from the creature's head plate. The round thudded dully on the lab deck. It was one of his, embossed with the Ultramarine livery. A blue band around the tip of the round marked it as a Kraken armor piercer.

_We were not adequately equipped._

Solarion remembered standing on a rooftop on Tuchanka, watching Karras and Rauth return to the drop pods, the Exorcist's face marred by a bloody gash.

_We left ourselves too exposed on Tuchanka._

He remembered Voss' armor pockmarked by little holes, and Siefer Zeed covered in blood, a heavy dent in his battle helm.

_I warned Karras things would go badly._

Solarion pressed a button, and the arms froze. The autopsy report paused, the green text pulsing gently.

"Make a note."

A female voice hummed, uncomfortably lifelike. "Record when ready Brother Solarion."

"Subject is capable of weathering high caliber munitions, including Bolt .75 and up to Kraken .98. End of note."

_It was the Emperor's blessing our arms triumphed over Karras' failure._

"Note recorded." The text began to scroll again, and the machines began their whirring. An artery near Vorn's heart was punctured and the observation window was sprayed with blood.

He grimaced in distaste. He should be tending to his arms, not monitoring a xenos autopsy. But Karras would be out of his debriefing with Sigma, and in the armory now. Solarion would not risk a repeat performance of the fight he and Talon Squad leader had waged upon returning to the _Final Secret_. It had been very loud, very public, and privately Solarion was ashamed. A good Ultramarine did not quarrel with his superior.

_But he tries me with his recklessness. If he would just listen, we would not be exposed to such unnecessary risk. By the Emperor his gambling will damn us. _

The door behind him slid open with a hiss. Solarion heard the heavy footfalls of Talon Squad's strongest brother.

Maximmion Voss stood beside Solarion, and watched the machines work. The two marines stood together in silence for a long time. Solarion's post human mind calculated the silence at five standard Terran minutes.

"What do you want brother?" Solarion's voice came out sharper than he intended. He saw Voss purse his lips for the briefest moment.

The Imperial Fist remained silent for a moment longer, then spoke. "Karras has finished speaking with Sigma."

"And?"

"We are to return to Nirvana to retrieve two additional battle brothers and equipment. It was Sigma and Karras' judgment that as we now stand, Talon Squad will quickly become combat ineffective."

Solarion snorted. "Karras' judgment." Another jet of gore splashed across the window.

"You have something to say brother?" Voss' voice was even, but like a mountaineer who hears the gentle tumble of a pebble at the start of an earthquake, there was an unmistakeable rumble in the marine's voice. Solarion had known Voss as a Deathwatch brother for so long he had forgotten the bulky Imperial Fist was a Brother Sergeant. One with a fearsome reputation.

"Not at all brother." Solarion replied coolly. "I am merely irked by the suggestion we are incapable of completing the task we have been charged with."

Voss clicked his tongue. "You forget brother, that I and the rest of Talon heard your squabble with Watcher." There was a pop as Voss cracked his bull like neck.

"You are irked by the fact that Lyandro Karras commands where you do not."

Solarion could not suppress a grimace. _You're aim is true as ever brother._

"Brother Karras has commanded Talon Squad for a long time." Solarion could feel Voss' eyes on him.

"And you have noted deficiencies in our brother's service?" Voss rumbled. _My opinions are well known. Why does he question me?_

"You know what I think brother."

Voss grunted. "I do." He grabbed Solarion by the shoulder and spun him round so the two marines were face to face. "And it stops now." The Imperial Fist pushed Solarion in the chest, hard. "I am tired of your constant whining."

Solarion shot forwards. "Do not strike me again brother." He and Voss stood nose to nose, Solarion glaring into Voss' icy calm eyes.

"Brother Sergeant." Voss growled. He shoved Solarion again, this time pushing him to the deck. "The order came down but an hour ago."

"He made you a Watch Sergeant? Why?" Solarion rose to his feet. He noted that Voss did not offer a hand to help him up.

"Talon Squad will grow by two, raising our accompaniment to eight brothers. The Death Watch requires any Kill Team larger than six to have a Brother Sergeant."

_Of course he picks Voss. Loyal, obedient Voss, trusty Omni._

"And Karras chose you." Solarion sneered. "Of course."

_Again, I am passed over. _

"Why should Karras listen to the criticism of his brothers after all."

Solarion did not see the blow that sent him reeling. One moment he and Voss stood face to face, and the next, Voss was looming over him, glowering like an angry bear.

"Not another word."

Solarion had heard stories about Brother Sergeant Voss, who could fire a heavy bolter on the run, and who was the dread of every new battle brother to come through the Imperial Fists Second Company.

Ears ringing, Solarion looked up in bewilderment at the transformed battle brother above him. The unflappable and good natured Imperial Fist had vanished. A snarling golem stood in his place.

"If I hear you speak ill of our Team Leader again, I will break your jaw."

Solarion had grown too used to Voss, or perhaps the Sergeant's blow had addled his mind, because he spoke without thinking.

"How dare you raise a hand to me…."

The second blow he did see coming. Voss made no attempt to hide it. Omni's fist crashed into Solarion's nose, shattering it.

"I am your Sergeant!" Voss bellowed. "How dare you question my right to discipline you as I please?" He reached down and hauled Solarion up by the collar of his tunic. "I don't care if you criticize Brother Karras. That is your right. No astartes is beyond the criticism of his brothers."

Voss leaned forwards so he and Solarion were almost touching noses. Solarion could feel Omni's hot breath on his face, and had to resist the urge to pull away from the Sergeant's furious gaze.

"But if you ever, _ever,_ speak to another battle brother, let alone a senior brother, again, Emperor help me Ignacio, I will break your jaw."

The Imperial Fist let go of Solarion's tunic and stormed out, leaving the Ultramarine alone to clean blood from the deck.

* * *

Psykers who served the Emperor as Astartes Librarians were often called aloof and cold by their brothers. Most Astartes did not welcome the company of those with witchblood, and many Librarians preferred to spend their time with their peers rather than with the disapproving gaze of their battle brothers. But more than that, psykers were uniquely sensitive to the feelings and thoughts of those around them.

Karras had felt every moment of Solarion's fight with Voss, felt Voss' rage and Solarion's angry shock. He'd felt Solarion's alarm when Voss had struck him, and the sharp jolt of pain when the Sergeant's fist shattered the Ultramarine's nose.

He had a massive headache. The smooth white walls of his cabin seemed overly bright, and his eyes watered.

Karras rubbed his temples and exhaled in irritation. The debriefing with Sigma had not helped.

"_Talon Squad needs medical and tech assistance Inquisitor."_

"_Agreed. I am attaching two brothers from Watch Fortress Jericho to your team on a permanent basis. Brother Apothecary Astaros Gerr of the Red Scorpions and Brother Techmarine Lu'Shan of the Salamanders have already been briefed and are enroute as we speak."_

"_So quickly?" _

"_They are up to the task."_

"_It is customary for a Team Alpha to make that judgment."_

"_There is no time. Go to Nirvana, retrieve them, and should they not be up to standard, bring them to standard. Things have changed Alpha, not in the way I would have hoped them to. There is no time for discussion. Once you have retrieved your new brothers, contact me. I will have a new operation for you. Sigma out."_

A Deathwatch Kill Team was a unique formation within the Adeptus Astartes. They were largely without hierarchy, and worked on a system of deep trust and immense personal loyalty to one another. Deathwatch marines had to be intimately aware of their own skills and capabilities as well as those of their brothers. That was why any new team member was supposed to be chosen the current brothers. It allowed the team to choose a new brother whose capability and character would work well within the team. A bad fit could hamstring the performance of a Kill Team.

Sigma had denied Karras and Talon Squad the right to choose.

On a command level, Karras understood the decision. There was not time available for Talon Squad to screen potential new recruits. But as Talon Alpha, Karras begrudged the Inquisitor for putting him in the position of bringing new battle brothers into his kill team. Talon Squad was a veteran and highly successful kill team. His brothers would surely reject the two new Astartes, whom they would view as outsiders. After the spectacularly loud fight he'd had with Prophet after Tuchanka, Karras wasn't comfortable with the stress the new recruits would create.

_Emperor give me strength._ Karras closed his eyes and murmured a prayer. _How am I to lead brothers who do not trust one another, who question my command?_

The fight with Solarion was running through his head. He felt the frustration and disapproval of his brothers while he and the Ultramarine howled at one another. His blood boiled in anger. At the tips of his fingers, little sparks of electricity danced and shimmered.

"_You should never have been given command." _Solarion's sneering voice laughed at him.

Without command, his mind expanded, speeding beyond and engulfing the _Final Secret_. He was the ship, every bolt, metal plate, every wire. He could sense every single oxygen particle. He was Chyron, slumbering in the hold.

"_You have no place commanding brothers with such storied histories."_

He was Zeed, hammering away at a combat module with cheery abandon. He was Voss, angrily cleaning blood from his knuckles.

"_Why are you better than we are?"_

He was Solarion, angry and ashamed, pushing his shattered nose back into place. He was Rauth, calmly sealing the cut on his face with a sterilization brand and reading from a data slate.

"_Look at what your decision has done to our brother." _

He was Lyandro Karras, meditating in his cabin, at the center of an imperceptible storm of energy.

"_It is with a joyful heart, that blood is shed in service."_ It was as if cool water poured over Karras' mind. He could hear Rauth reading to himself from the tattered hymn book he thought none of his brothers knew about, a gift from the Imperial Preacher who had raised him.

"_I have missed battle." _Zeed was eager, emboldened and inspired by Tuchanka to new feats of already near impossible skill at arms.

Deep below him, Karras felt Chyron dreaming of a war long past, a victory parade on the streets of Terra itself before his internment. He felt Voss grunt to himself in satisfaction that discipline was enforced, and that the firing pin of his heavy bolter was so clean it gleamed.

He felt Solarion cursing himself violently. _"It was not my place. I behaved in a manner unfit of an Ultramarine. What would Old Telion say?"_ The Ultramarine was berating himself with a fury bourne of shame.

_They do not doubt. They do not question._ Karras shrank, spiraling back into the ship, into the cabin, and back into his own thoughts. _They have faith in each other and in me._ Karras thought back to his chapter homeworld Occludus, to his brother Death Spectres. He thought of how proud they would be, to know that one of their brotherhood had undertaken such a task as the one Karras faced.

_I am ready for this task. I shall lead my brothers in His service, and assure the survival of His people. I shall know no fear._


	9. IX A Question of Ability

I'm back! Sorry for the long absence, but vacation was calling. I'm now back, and will be updating regularly (once a week) as per usual. Thanks for your patience!

As always, read and review. Feel free to message me at any time.

Ave Imperator.

* * *

The new Normandy had been built around the concept of efficiency. Everything was recycled. Air, water, waste, energy, all of it was gathered and transformed for other uses throughout the vessel. Two thirds of the ship's systems had been automated, run through a Virtual Intelligence system on board. Only vital systems, like engines and life support maintained a crew accompaniment. The entire ship was monitored through a ship wide network, allowing the V.I to provide second by second information to the ship commander. All crew members had been fitted with medical support nodes. Should a crewman's heart give out, the V.I would be able to render immediate medical assistance. Should a crewman begin to act in a concerning manner, the V.I could resolve the issue in a similar fashion. Only one person on board was separated from this ship wide network. He sat in a small office, also cut off from ship surveillance, perusing a positively geriatric hard copy of _The Will to Power._ The man appreciated his superior allowing him to choose his own name. The ancient Terran play _Inspector General_ remained a continuing delight to him. Judging by the crew files, no one would notice the peculiar name. The Xenos wouldn't know better and he sincerely doubted the Commander appreciated literature.

He closed the book, placing it on a shelf with pious care. His black boots made no sound on the cloud of black carpet. The rug would have to go. Luxury distracted from work. This office was going to have been Operative Lawson's. It showed. There was a level of quiet opulence to the compartment. Lawson clearly hadn't had a problem spending her superior's money. No doubt she thought herself terribly clever. He laughed quietly. He did not like Ms. Lawson.

Shepard on the other hand, was someone he could work with. There was a file stowed away in his desk of a significant thickness dedicated to the Commander's military career. Most of it was full, operational transcripts, medical and physical fitness tests, and the occasional commendation. What separated Shepard's file from the thousands upon thousands of others he'd had to pore over, was a little pict print tucked into the back of the file. The pict was of ten men bearded and grinning. They wore miner's overalls and carried rifles. In the center of the pict stood John Shepard, a little younger, perhaps a little less scarred. On the back of the pict someone had scribbled ten names, and next to mine of them, three words.

_KIA 12June87 Akuze_

An Alliance Navy scout had stumbled onto a Cerberus research station. Due to time constraints, a proper clean up team had not been sent in. Instead, the Operative in command had detonated a small seismic charge beneath the station, driving the local subterranean wildlife mad. The inhabitants had been devoured by Thresher Maws, and so had the Alliance Marines deployed to sweep the station. Only Shepard, then in command of a recon platoon, had survived. Not only had he survived, but he'd accomplished his unit mission, recovered the dead, and returned to the scout ship with all personnel accounted for.

Shepard's commitment to mission success was unusual. In a hundred other equivalent studies, all other N series Alliance officers had withdrawn to space, or died with their men. Only Shepard had continued with his mission.

He and his superior shared an appreciation for a man with Shepard's dedication.

There was a short, sharp knock on the door. Shepard stood in the doorway. The commander had clearly discarded the Cerberus service uniform he'd even given as soon as he'd been able, opting instead for a hoodie and a raggedy pair of sweatpants. He looked rather homeless.

"Can I help you Commander?"

"Yes you can Osip." Shepard fell into a plush armchair in front of the desk. "I make it a habit of knowing the men under my command."

He paused, and leaned back in his chair. "You have questions about my ability?"

Shepard laughed. "Your qualifications, No. You're overqualified if anything. I don't think I've ever met someone who served with NATO Special Services. N-series and NATO don't mix much."

He smiled. "We would, but you wouldn't be able to keep up."

Shepard snorted. "Is that why S.A keeps you guys earth side? So as not to embarrass everyone else?"

"Your words sir."

On the desk between them, sat Osip's one luxury. A beautifully crafted metal chessboard. The commander glanced down at it. "Do you play?"

"Yes sir."

Shepard grinned. "I learned during the Blitz. You any good?"

The man extended a hand. "Would you like a game?"

The Commander nodded, turning the board so that the white pieces were on his side of the desk. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all sir." Shepard slid a pawn into the center of the board. From behind the black lines, Osip studied the Commander. Shepard might have thought his visit would be taken in the manner it was offered, a friendly visit, but Osip knew better. The Commander was playing for information. It was an attempt at cunning not without a measure of skill. In the manner of a fisherman casting nets, Shepard had cast his lines deep and wide, in an attempt to open as many lines of conversation as possible. The mention of shared experience and the game were Shepard's bait.

Osip could recognize a skilled player when he saw one, and Shepard was skilled. But to survive and thrive in the environment he had spent his adult life in, Osip had cultivated the depths of an ocean in which to hide his superior's secrets. Shepard was fishing with line that would barely break the surface.

He slid a black pawn forwards to meet Shepard's. Shepard took it. In reply, a black knight snapped up the overambitious white pawn. Shepard sent a white knight out to counter.

Chess was a profoundly psychological game. A player would expose themselves in the course of the game, revealing how they thought, and how they responded to various stimuli. To be even meddling at chess, a player had to learn to hide from his opponent and with the same stroke, pierce his facade. To predict his opponent's moves, and to formulate a stratagem, a player had to first understand his opponent's mind. Shepard, who had lost his knight in an over eager jab at Osip's queen, was not a good chess player.

Shepard tossed a Manila folder onto his desk. "That's the dossier I got on you from Tim. You fought at the Battle for Moscow?"

Osip took Shepard's bishop. "I was attached to 4th Special Forces during the invasion of Old Russia. My unit was deployed in support of the city."

"Word was, most of the 4th didn't get through that one." Shepard castled his king, sealing himself up against Osip's advancing bishops.

"Most of us didn't." He pursed his lips, then prodded a knight forwards to threaten Shepard's queen and his right rook. "My record is readily available upon request, sir."

Shepard waved a hand, and glowered at the board. "I already read your file." He waggled a finger at the manila folder. "Aside from your blood type and assessment scores, it's all black ink. As far as I'm concerned, if you can shoot and follow orders, you and I will get along fine. I do however need you to fill in some of the blanks." Shepard salvaged his queen, leaving his rook to the mercy of Osip's knight.

"Such as?" Osip's queen, lurking in the rear, revealed herself, cutting down Shepard's in a long charge across the board. Shepard frowned.

"Nothing important, just some basic information. Favorite food, place of birth, medical issues, stuff like that."

"Is that pertinent sir?" Shepard tried to parry the queen with a bishop. Osip let him take the piece. He edged a knight forwards.

"I think so." Shepard replied. "I don't like my crew hiding secrets from me." Ignoring the two knights looming over his king, Shepard lashed out with his bishop toward a line of pawns on Osip's right flank.

"That's my job sir." The knights continued their advance, leaving the pawns to their doom.

"To hide things from me?" Shepard didn't attempt to hide his smile as his bishop slaughtered the black pawns.

"To keep secrets." A black bishop slid forwards and took Shepard's other rook. Surprised, Shepard glared at the black piece. "How'd you do that?"

"Sir?"

Shepard gave him a long, piercing look. Osip waited patiently for the Commander, gently tapping his left index finger on the desk in a steady beat.

"Where were you born?" He asked finally, moving his now endangered king out of harms way.

"Moscow." Osip replied, sliding a knight forwards to threaten the king.

"Moscow is a beautiful city isn't it?" Shepard's king retreated.

"It was." The other black knight advanced. "Before the war."

"I grew up in the colonies." Shepard said conversationally. "Never got down to Earth myself. I'm planning a trip next time I get leave." Shepard pushed a pawn forward in a futile attempt to stall the black advance.

"I didn't know tourism coordination was in my mission set sir." The bishop slid forwards, and pinned the white king.

Shepard laughed and raised the middle finger of his right hand. "Fuck you." He flicked the white king over.

"Buy me dinner first sir." Osip smiled in reply. "Good game sir."

"You murdered me." Shepard snorted.

_If you'd been more patient I wouldn't have._ "I have more experience with the game sir."

"Right, you're Russian." Shepard rose to his feet. "Bastards grow up on this game don't you?"

"That and vodka sir."

Shepard laughed. "There's a game I can beat you in." He picked up the folder and made for the door. "We'll continue this conversation later."

"Yes sir." Osip watched Shepard leave, carefully reset the board, and with a clatter of keyboard keys, opened a private message terminal. A red light shone from the camera on his terminal screen. Osip raised one hand and presented a neat, simple steel ring, topped by a silver letter I with three small bars in it's center.

_Note: Subject One Alpha_

_S, _

_Shepard exhibits characteristic aggression and confidence. Is prone to over reach and reckless behavior. Over all in keeping with pre-surgery psychological profile. Confidence and reckless nature believed to stem from service as Spectre. Recommend minor changes to behavior in regards to risk assessment and confidence. Loss or potential loss of comrades or friends should be sufficient. Please advise._

_O_

T

The _Final Secret _hung in orbit over Nirvana like a black bird of prey. Silhouetted by the glimmering white planet, the frigate's outline was visible. A tiny black craft rocketed upwards from the planet surface, disappearing into the _Final Secret_. A brief flare of the ship thrusters and it jetted into the darkness, once again becoming invisible to the eye. It slid through the void, bearing its deadly cargo towards their duty.

The thrusters flared again, and there was a brilliant flash of impossible color. For a moment the vacuum of space rippled with inhuman screams, and the stars writhed.

Then the light vanished and everything was as it had been.

* * *

Astaron Gerr watched with mild amusement as the deathly pale Raven Guard prowled around him. The Red Scorpion's armor was in stark contrast to the rest of the warriors aboard the _Final Secret_, a pure white instead of a deep black. His left shoulder bore the Death Watch crest, and his right bore the grey field and coiled red scorpion of his chapter. The Apothecary stood in a shuttle hold, hemmed in on three sides by the Astartes of Talon Squad. Two sat on storage crates, hidden in shadow. The third, hailing from the Raven Guard, circledthe new arrivals like a vulture.

"What're your names?" the Raven Guard asked. The marine's voice had a sardonic ripple to it, as though he was on the brink of laughter.

"Astaron Gerr."

"Lu'shan." Beside Gerr, a young Astartes from the Salamanders stuck out his chin defiantly. He wore a Techmarine's rig on his back, and a optic enhancement whirred angrily on his exposed right eye.

"And what makes you think you belong here?" The Raven Guard asked, leering into the Techmarine's face. "What honors have you won?"

"I killed Urak Fellhand of the Iron Warriors." He snapped back. It was an interesting genetic anomaly of the Salamanders, inherited from their Primach Vulcan He'stan, that all Salamanders had skin as black as pitch, and eyes of fiery yellow. As he snarled at the sneering Raven Guard, Lu'shan reminded Gerr of the dragons of Terran myth.

"We don't kill traitors here." A Death Watch marine bearing Ultramarine heraldry replied. Unlike the Raven Guard, the Ultramarine wore his battle helm. "Our task is to slay a much more cunning foe."

"Ever fought Eldar little lizard?" The Raven Guard gave the Techmarine a shove. "What about Tyranids? And I don't mean during your training with the Watch. I mean on the field of battle." The Salamander bared his teeth, ritually sharpened to fangs, but did not reply.

"Leave the young one Ghost." A dour marine in Exorcist colors called from behind them. "He'll cut his teeth in battle soon."

The Raven Guard laughed. "If he survives." He turned on Gerr. "And what about you Apothecary?"

"I've faced xenos before." Gerr replied coldly. He did not care for the Raven Guard's sneering attitude.

"Oooh, a veteran are we?" The Raven Guard snickered. "Mind yourselves brothers, we've a master among us!"

"Rot in the Eye." Lu'shan gave the Raven Guard a rough shove. The Raven Guard looked surprised for a moment, then cackled. "The lizard has teeth!" He beckoned Lu'shan forwards. "Come on then."

The Salamander stepped forwards, but Gerr's outstretched arm held him back.

"Death Watch does not war with Death Watch." He hissed. "They goad you so that you will discredit yourself."

"He impugns our honor!" The Salamander snarled, glaring intently at the Raven Guard.

"He tests you, nothing more." Gerr was prevented from continuing by a sneering cry.

"I did not think Vulcan's sons were cowards."

Lu'shan roared and lunged forwards. The Raven Guard met him head on. The two marines crashed together with a thunderous sound.

"Damnation." Gerr moved to get between the two battling Astartes. "Help me!"

The Ultramarine and Exorcist stepped forwards to intervene, and together, the trio pulled the battling pair apart.

"Enough!" The Ultramarine roared. "Raven Guard, enough! What will our Alpha say?"

"I can tell you what he will say." A deep, vibrant baritone echoed through the bay. A tall Death Specter librarian stood in the entranceway, flanked by an Imperial Fist of impossible muscular size. "Ghost, Salamander, Red Scorpion, to my quarters immediately. The rest of you, return to your duties." He glared at the Astartes of Talon Squad.

"I expect more from Death Watch."


	10. X All Talons

_Hey guys!_

_Sorry for the insane delay. Army life is a busy life. I've finally gotten some real free time, however temporary, so I'm back!_

_For all who waited patiently, you guys rock!_

_I don't own any involved intellectual property_

_READ AND REVIEW!_

* * *

_Lyandro Karras sat in his cabin aboard the Final Secret, and traveled the stars. He swam beyond the limits of the Secret, out past beyond Nirvana, into the outer limits of the system. The Librarian plunged into the void, away from Nirvana's feeble star, out into the emptiness of space. He turned, treading in place, to watch a nebula some three light years distant coil and uncoil around itself, the cacophony of colours blending together into a miracle of energy and light. Karras bathed in the light of a newborn star, and reveled in the freedom of space. _

_Something tugged at him. It was like a breeze at first, brushing against his leg. It became stronger, more insistent, now like a child's hand, and now a thorn, biting into the meat of his calf. He withdrew, back towards the Final Secret and his silent form in the bowels of the ship. The tugging continued, stronger and stronger._

_There was something in the system, something different, something alien._

_Karras expanded outwards from himself, reaching across Nirvana, from system edge to system edge. His mind became a great eye, seeing everything._

_There was a ship, no longer than a hundred meters, moving into the system. The ship was alien in design, as were its markings. Some part of his subconscious offered up a species: Asari. _

_The xenos craft was not moving along a single path. rather, it seemed to be moving in small circular orbits, one circle feeding into another, and then another. It was almost as if the ship was looking for something. _

_An icy sensation ran down Karras' spine. His mind offered up a grim solution to the xenos ship's unusual behavior._

_The embarkation of Talon's new brothers. A brief flare of unshrouded engines to allow for intercept, a brief exposure of the Final Secret. A signal, small but definite, sent out amongst the stars by the burn of the engines._

_The Final Secret had been detected._

_Karras returned to his body. In the darkness of his cabin, Talon Alpha voxed his Kill Team._

"_All Talons to arms. We have been detected."_

* * *

_Deathwatch is a pact. It is a sacred band. Our brotherhood requires total commitment. You are Deathwatch before all else. Your kill team; your brothers before all others. You have lain blows upon brothers, and brought your oaths of service to the Long Watch into question. Prove you can honor that commitment. _

Talon Alpha's words cut to the hearts of his astartes. Marines became Deathwatch out of pride. Men within a desperately selective brotherhood sought to join a still scarcer honored few, the Emperor's most fearsome alien hunters. Those who became Deathwatch would sooner die than fail in their watch.

Three of Talon Squad's brothers had caused doubt to be cast upon their commitment to the Watch. In traditional circumstances, the brothers would be sent on solitary missions as Black Shields, forbidden to display their chapter heraldry, to die or regain their honor. Such taskings were impossible for Lyandro Karras given Talon's current circumstances, but the Death Spectre librarian had found another, swifter test.

A solitary boarding torpedo slid from the _Final Secret's_ hull, a sleek black shark slipping through the nothingness, bearing three of Talon Squad into the dark. The torpedo drifted for a brief moment, before igniting primary thrusters and rocketing forwards in a burst of blue flame. It bore its deadly cargo forwards, onto a collision course with a milky white shape.

A xenos cruiser had come up over the planet Nirvana's eastern hemisphere, on a course to intercept _Final Secret_ in orbit over the ice planet. The xenos cruiser hung above Nirvana, monitoring a series of descending dropships that fell from its belly like a cloud of bees. The xenos had detected an old signal, released by the _Final Secret _hours earlier, and was hunting for it. Talon Alpha had deemed the risk of discovery an immediate threat to Talon's mission. A kinetic solution had been authorized. Siefer Zeed, the unruly Raven Guard, and Talon's newest brothers had been tasked with the cruiser's destruction. The milky white ship would die in orbit, and the three would resolve themselves as brothers in battle or join the xenos in death. Zeed and Lu'shan would find common ground. If they could not, Astaron Gerr would ensure the return of their gene seed. Another brother, Prophet, would descend to the planet surface and burn away what was left of the xenos presence.

Inside the boarding torpedo, the astartes sat together in flickering red light, and made ready for war.

"Contact, thirty seconds." Apothecary Gerr pulled his war helm down over his head. "Vox check." In the semi darkness, the bone white of his helm had a deathly aspect. A bloody painted scorpion crested the white armor, its claws extending under the Apothecary's glowing eye slits.

"Talon Five, vox clear." Ghost sat uncomfortably. Omni had stripped him of his power claws. He carried a heavy breaching chainaxe, and a wrist mounted storm bolter, belt fed with Kraken rounds. Around his belly, the Raven Guard carried a bandolier of melta charges.

The torpedo shook violently. The Deathwatch lurched in their harnesses.

"Starboard thrusters have engaged. The xenos must have changed course."

Talon Squad's youngest brother shifted beneath his harness. The Salamander wore a second layer of heavy breacher's armor over his war plate. Mechadendrites clacked together like serpents around his head. A three barrelled flamer shimmered on his left wrist. In his right he held a great plasteel tower shield. The techmarine would be first into the alien craft, and would burn a path into the craft for his battle brothers. The obsidian skinned Salamander flexed his hands in anticipation, the starter flame of his flame gauntlet flickering intermittently. He was young, scarcely out of his first century. War had not yet taught the young Lu'shan patience.

"Talon Seven, vox clear."

The torpedo shook again. An alarm blared.

"Contact in ten seconds. Brace for impact."

The torpedo struck the xenos cruiser just to the left of its primary thrusters. Detected before impact, the ship had attempted to evade the metal meteorite. It had failed.

The torpedo bit into the xenos cruiser's hull. Drill heads on the torpedo nose crushed through the hull, chewing the hull and decks apart. Two decks along the ship's left flank vented atmosphere in a shower of sparks and shattered metal. The xenos craft lurched and writhed like a stuck fish on a harpoon.

The torpedo continued onwards, into the guts of the xenos vessel. The thrusters flared once more and then hard locked, retreating into an armored shell. They would not fire again, not until the torpedo's deadly cargo had completed their work. The heavy teeth at the head of the torpedo ground a precious few extra meters into the hull, tearing through to the very tip of the ship. The drill heads whirred, forming an airtight seal against the blast shielded navigation deck.

Inside the torpedo, the flickering red light turned a brilliant, incandescent green.

A mechanical monotone boomed. "Go forth and execute His Will. The Emperor accepts not failure. Suffer not the Xenos to Live."

Breaching charges deployed from the nose of the torpedo. Within its armored confines, the astartes listened to the thunderous detonations.

Astaron Gerr stood. "Purge Pattern. Kill them all." An ancient archeotech pistol glowed a virulent crimson.

The torpedo head broke open, and the three astartes descended into a world of smoke.

* * *

Lu'shan went first into the smoke. The Salamander held his tower shield before him, and poured blue white promethium fire into the breach. A pintle mounted plasma gun on a servo arm hissed furiously. Plasma punched through the smoke in an angry hail. Green auspex scans bloomed from his swirling mechadendrites, feeding a constant stream of information to the three astartes and to the _Final Secret_.

"Two xenos, our right." Lu'shan rumbled. Bolt fire roared behind him. Seifer Zeed thumped the Salamander across his pauldron. The Raven Guard's storm bolter cycled rounds with a quiet clatter.

"Good call Lizard. Move on."

The Salamander growled, but advanced. The breaching charges had made a bloody ruin of the navigation deck. The xenos vessel's controls and navigation computers had been ripped to shreds by the explosions, and their alien controllers had been sprayed over the jagged shards.

The three marines encountered only one more living xenos, a remarkably well dressed womanly creature with vibrant blue skin. The creature leapt for Lu'shan with a banshee wail, a long sword rippling with purplish energy raised overhead. Apothecary Gerr caught the xenos in the stomach with a blast of red light from his pistol. It screamed, and fell as atomized dust over the astartes.

Zeed coughed. "Didn't plan on breathing xenos this day old man."

Gerr ignored him. "Talon Alpha, this is Talon Eight. We have made entry."

"Understood Talon Eight. Destroy the crew. Take samples if possible." Talon Alpha's voice was tinny over the vox, unlike the Death Spectre Librarian's usual heavy baritone. "Emperor be with you. Talon Alpha out."

The vox link closed.

"We have our orders." Gerr said. "Seven, get us a blueprint of this blasphemy."

Lu'shan nodded. A computer interface, sheltered by a reinforced chair, had survived the breach. A mechadendrite interfaced, and the Salamander went rigid. Talon's Five and Eight waited patiently for two heart beats.

"Blueprint found. Transmitting."

"Two decks remaining," Gerr clicked his teeth. "One ship bay between them, four cargo holds."

"I'll take the first deck." Zeed hissed. A dozen red heartbeats blinked in the Raven Guard's HUD. "They're mine."

Gerr nodded. The Raven Guard vanished, slipping into the depths of the ship.

"Ghost indeed." The Red Scorpion Apothecary murmured. "I will take the bay. Can you take the second deck?" He addressed the young Salamander directly, off the vox. Seifer Zeed was a veteran of the Deathwatch, used to operating alone. Astaron Gerr had been at war for half a millennia. The young Salamander was barely out of his first century, and although no doubt possessed of incredible skill, the pride of a young brother like Lu'shan, surrounded by so many veterans, might make him take unnecessary risk. Keeping the question off the squad vox gave the Salamander the opportunity to ask for aid, and spare himself the shame of inexperience. "We might better face the foe together."

The Salamander refused Gerr's offer of assistance. "I will clear the second deck." He said over the vox. "Leave me the first cargo hold."

The Apothecary could feel the Salamander glowering at him. The boy wanted his glory. The Red Scorpion raised a hand in submission.

"The second deck is yours brother." Gerr said. "Good hunting."

The Salamander nodded. " I will clear it."

* * *

Zeed broke open a malfunctioning blast door with a melta charge, and very nearly met the Emperor. A ball of vermillion-black fire tore down the length of the corridor, screaming past his head. Xenos in combat armor shouted to one another beyond the door. Small arms fire whistled around the astartes.

"Little bastards." Zeed hissed. The storm bolter roared. Bolt rounds stitched three xenos against the corridor wall, and punched a hole in the chest of another. Had he his pack and power claws, he'd have been amongst the xenos in an instant. The sluggishness of his advance and his gory harvest irked him deeply.

A second ball of energy flew towards him. The Raven Guard threw himself flat, and let the ball fly harmlessly past him. The storm bolter on his wrist kept firing. An alien trooper exploded into ruins, broken up by four bolt rounds.

Zeed rolled to his left, sheltering behind a metal support. He chanced a glance behind him and saw, with some concern, that the black energy had turned the remnants of the breached blast door into molten slag. Two xenos labored behind a wide barreled monstrosity. The metal beast fired again, and a third ball of black fire hurtled past.

"All Talons, Talon Five. Heavy anti armor weapon, deck one, corridor two. Requesting support."

The words tasted of bile in his mouth. The words that came through the vox burned his ears like a brand.

"Talon Five, Talon Seven. Support imminent, mag lock your plate."

_Emperor curse the little lizard. _ "What are you doing, Lizard?" Zeed's armor locked to the metal deck with a heavy thud. "Techmarine?"

There was no answer. Ahead of him, Zeed heard screams of surprise.

Xenos troopers were floating off the deck, struggling vainly against a sudden loss of gravity, choking at a loss of oxygen. Zeed's helmet chimed, automatically piping oxygen to the Raven Guard. The Salamander had turned off life support.

_Well done_. Zeed thought. _Well done._ His storm bolter roared again, and the squirming xenos died.

"Enemy destroyed."

"Understood." The Salamander crackled. "Reactivating life support systems."

Zeed released his mag locks, and stalked over the bodies of the xenos troopers. He'd not admit it, but it really had been well done. The heavy weapon that had caused him so much grief came with him, clamped to his armor by an adamantine magnetic clamp. Mayhap the lizard could work out the xenotech weapon's secrets.

Zeed tugged a melta bomb from his belly harness and prepared to breach another door. His hands flexed. He missed his power claws.

* * *

Lu'shan watched Seifer Zeed advance on his HUD. A minute blue raven icon moved from deck one corridor one, to deck one corridor two. A flurry of gunfire buzzed past the techmarine, and the plasma gun on his right servo arm hissed an angry response.

Three xenos troopers fell back from the storm of plasma fire, dragging a wounded and screaming alien with them into cover. The plasma gun continued to spit blue fire, the barrel of the weapon glowing cherry red. Three mechadendrites worked around the weapon, spraying the barrel with cryo coolant to keep the weapon operable. Another trio of dendrites tore away at a computer panel, embedding themselves and burrowing through miles of ship's code. In seconds, Lu'shan had burned away the ship computer firewalls, and seized control over primary systems.

Enemy fire clipped a mechadendrite. The cybernetic tentacle fell limp, retracting into the techmarine's servo harness. Lu'shan scowled.

A hot water vent above the four xenos troopers burst. Boiling water enveloped the troopers. They wailed, and staggered blindly into the open, to be cut down by the techmarine. Lu'shan smiled viciously.

_You are avenged little spirit._ He hummed. _The alien has paid for its transgression_.

Within a golden ocean, the wounded mechadendrite danced in gratitude. Its brothers chorused their thanks. A fiery warmth flowed from the neuro-link at the base of Lu'shan's skull over his entire body.

_Kill them all for the Omnissiah_. The machine spirits chorused. _Destroy them all, Forge Brother._

Lu'shan felt the eager will of his machine spirits vibrating in him, and he stormed forwards. Great loping strides carried him down the length of the corridor. His boots splashed through pools of steaming water. Boiling water poured from the burst wall vent, flooding the deck. The slain xenos began to drift. Their exposed skin cracked and cooked. The water slid smoothly down the deck into the next corridor. Something, presumably the burst hot water valve, had interfered with the power. The corridor ahead of the techmarine was inky black.

Lu'shan advanced. His helmet optics whirred, compensating for the low light conditions. His pupils dilated, his surgically enhanced eyes racing the night optics in his helmet to adjust to the dark.

A xenos leapt for him out of the darkness, howling like a mad thing. Two blades flickered in the creature's hands. The blades clattered off Lu'shan's armor, but the creature pushed forwards, unperturbed. It came on, still howling, blades cutting and lunging for the astartes. Lu'shan retaliated, jabbing cruelly with the lower edge of his tower shield at the alien's legs. The alien cried out in pain and staggered. Lu'shan jabbed again, and then swung the corner of the shield into the alien's ribs. Something gave under the shield, and the alien lurched to the left, lifted off its feet by the force of the blow.

The techmarine loomed over the wheezing alien.

"Talon Eight, Talon Seven. I have a living sample."

"_Standby."_ The Apothecary rasped over the vox. "_Talon Alpha orders retrieval. Secure your prisoner."_

"Understood." At his feet, the alien rolled onto its belly, keening in pain. Mechadendrites snaked out, readying magnetic cuffs.

Something struck Lu'shan across the back. Another blow collided with his knees. He staggered forwards. Below him, the alien rolled over, out of the way of the Salamander's staggering feet, cackling. A metal hand scratched at his faceplate, clawing at his throat. Alerts blared in his visor display. Something tugged at his mechadendrites, heaving at his servo arms.

Lu'shan staggered like a drunk, hurling his weight into the corridor walls to scrape his invisible assailants from his back. Of the alien at his feet, there was no sign.

A machine spirit screamed. A mechadendrite had been torn from the techmarine's back. Boiling fury tore through his nervous system. The Salamander bellowed in fury, clawing at his back. He caught hold of something, and squeezed. Black fluid sprayed over his armor. A tangy, all too familiar smell filled his nostrils. Oil slick coated his back and shoulders, flowing down over his torso. The thing screamed, and struggled in the techmarine's vice grip. Lu'shan raised his flamer gauntlet.

"Burn, blasphemers!" Flames billowed over him. His war plate, reinforced to allow for extreme heat, lit up like an Ecclesiastical pyre on the Day of the Emperor Ascendant. Light flooded the corridor. His assailants wailed in alarm, the one in his grip wriggling violently, straining to free itself. His armor registered four small explosions across his back. Still aflame, Lu'shan strode forwards, tugging the still struggling thing from his back. A burning ruin collapsed onto the deck with a metallic clank. An orange cyclopean light flickered in the thing's face. A metal hand clawed at the Salamander's greaves.

"Suffer the wrath of the righteous, scum." Lu'shan snarled. Fury still flowed through him. His machine spirits rejoiced in the death agonies of the xenos who had harmed one of their kin.

The thing warbled at him. Horror replaced fury. The thing was speaking binary.

"All Talons." Lu'shan's voice shook, cracked. "All Talons."

Alarm flooded through the vox.

"Talon Seven, report!"

"Lizard!"

"Talon Seven! Report!"

Lu'shan crushed the abomination beneath his boot. "All Talons, this is Talon Seven. I have encountered an abominable intelligence." The Salamander saw four more brutalized constructs behind him. "They are controlled by a xenos warrior. I am initiating pursuit."

"Negative, Seven." Apothecary Gerr barked. "You will wait for support. I will contact Alpha."

"No time." Lu'shan retorted. "This vessel is infested. They will overrun us if I do not kill their master here." Ahead of him, the techmarine could see dozens of humanoid shapes, standing in neat rows, heads bowed. Orange eyes glowed in the dark. Mechanical voices chirped and warbled. His visor clicked, and supplied a target count. "I have seventy constructs at my position."

"Talon Seven, withdraw." Gerr cried through the vox. "You must withdraw."

Lu'shan ignored him. Beyond the abominable automata, the Salamander could see the xenos witch. It was smiling. He raised his flamer. The armament on his servo arms hummed. The automata began to move forwards.

"In the Emperor's name!" Lu'shan opened fire.

* * *

"Damnation!"

Astaron Gerr shredded a section of interior wall in frustration. The Apothecary's black plate was stained a pale grey by corpse ash. Purplish xenos blood floated in vials around the Apothecary's waist.

"Talon Five, Talon Eight. I am moving to support Talon Seven. You will secure our path of withdrawal."

The techmarine would need support. Pride and righteous anger was driving the young Salamander forwards, into a fight he would surely lose.

"Negative, Eight." Gerr balked at the Raven Guard's reply. "Secure our exit. Leave this fresh heresy to our reptilian brother."

An alien, atomized from the waist down, attempted to crawl away from the Red Scorpion. Gerr seared the xenos into nothingness with his pistol. "Our brother will need aid, Raven Guard."

"He needs his pride more." Zeed retorted. "Let him win his glory."

"He will die." A bulkhead to the Red Scorpion's right hissed open. Strange, emaciated metal cyclopean creatures poured forth. "He is grievously outnumbered, and by a terrible foe."

"Continue on mission Apothecary." Zeed insisted. "I will move to assist the techmarine."

Gerr didn't respond. His pistol vomited forth a stream of red light, and the automata died.

"The Salamander will succeed!" Zeed barked into the vox. "By the Emperor, is it your dotage that makes you like this, or did you always worry so?"

Gerr recoiled. "He is young!" More constructs poured forth, clambering over the ruins of their destroyed brothers, screeching. "I am his Apothecary! I will not let him spend his life so recklessly!"

"He wants to be Deathwatch!" Zeed snapped. "Let him prove it. Secure our exit. I will ensure Lizard survives."

Gerr checked his HUD. The Apothecary and Raven Guard were separated from the struggling techmarine by the core of the ship. The two corridors narrowed and joined together at an airlock twenty meters to the Red Scorpion's rear. He marked the airlock on his map.

"Retrieve our brother." He said. "We will rejoin at the airlock to the nav deck. Do you see it?"

"I see it." Zeed said.

"I will contact Talon Alpha and secure our withdrawal." The automata were piling up before the bulkhead, crawling over one another to get at the Red Scorpion. "Do not tarry."

The Raven Guard laughed. "I won't.

The xenos ship was built around a heavily reinforced internal superstructure, running like a spine along the center of the craft, through which the ship's power and life support was passed. The the port and starboard sections were thus separated by six meters of metal and wiring. The superstructure had been designed to withstand a catastrophic hull breach, even a ship to ship collision. From this central spine, supporting columns arced like ribs around the inside of the hull. Even in the event of a catastrophic breach in the hull, the ribs would keep the vessel together.

Seifer Zeed's last melta bomb blew one such breach into the flank of the ship. Alarms blared, and vacuum pulled at him, trying to tear him out into the void.

The boots of his warplate mag locked to the deck. Crawling, almost on his hands and knees, Zeed hauled himself out into space. Astartes armor, although void safe, was not impervious. Icy cold nipped at Zeed's skin, and his armor thrummed as it funneled heat from its power pack to compensate. Gripping a shuddering section of exposed hull, the Raven Guard swung his body up and out, kicking his legs forwards to hammer against the outer hull.

His armor locked on with a dull, and satisfying thud. He swung forwards, and began to crawl up towards the spine of the ship. The ship map in his helmet display tracked his position against the hull, a small blue raven trudging slowly towards a snarling dragon head.

"Talon Seven, Talon Five."

There was no answer.

"Talon Seven, Talon Five."

Zeed pulled himself upright, and drew the chain axe from his belt.

"Talon Five, Talon Seven." Lu'shan's voice was strained. "Go ahead."

"Moving to support Lizard." Zeed said. "Lock your armor."

The chain axe shook in Zeed's hands. It bit into the hull with ravenous appetite, chewing through metal like parchment.

"Lock my…."

The axe broke through the hull. The tear expanded rapidly, shards of metal falling away and cartwheeling into space. "You madman!" He heard the techmarine cry.

"Make way!" Zeed laughed. "I'm coming through."

The Raven Guard had to force his way back into the ship. The sudden change in internal pressure had sucked the spindly metal automata up towards the breach, where they were crushed together into a screeching, warbling blockade. Zeed battered at this mass with his axe and storm bolter, ripping passage through the writhing metal bodies.

Even crushed against the hull, the automata attempted to reach for the Raven Guard, to claw him back into space.

"Get clear!" Below Zeed, the Salamander leveled his flamer at the metal monstrosities.

Zeed kicked a construct in the face, blasted two apart, and fell like a stone onto the deck. Blue white fire melted the howling constructs to the hull, fusing them into a misshapen blob of dripping molten metal. Metal bodies lay strewn across the deck, torn apart and reduced to slag by promethuim and plasma fire. A cluster lay not a meter before Lu'shan, ripped limb from limb by the techmarine's cybernetic limbs.

Still more came on.

"Where are they coming from?" Zeed cried. His storm bolter shredded a group of constructs into shrapnel. His breathing was ragged.

"The cargo holds!" Lu'shan replied. "The xenos witch is summoning them, look!"

The Salamander pointed with a mechadendrite. An alien stood behind the mob of constructs, howling orders to the machine men. More and more of the skeletal machines poured into the hold, crawling through vents, and struggling through tightly packed bulkheads.

"Kill it!" Lu'shan cried. "Kill it and this is over!"

"With pleasure." Zeed threw himself into the host of constructs, setting all about him with the thundering chain axe. Metal and machine fluid flew in all directions. A construct leapt for his face, and Zeed cut it in half from skull to groin. A knot of constructs attempting to simultaneously move through an air duct were incinerated by plasma fire.

"_Hurry brothers!"_ Apothecary Gerr said over the vox. "_These blasphemies grow more numerous by the second!"_

Zeed laughed. "Rejoice! The Emperor has given us a harvest!"

"Do you need aid Apothecary?" Lu'shan asked. His mechadendrites tore a construct in half, and hurled the twitching ruins into the faces of its comrades. "We can provide it."

"_Insolent whelp!"_ Gerr growled. "_I could kill this filth till the Primarchs walk again!"_

"We should make haste Lizard." Zeed said. His bolt rounds hammered automata into the deck and shattered them into pieces. "The old relic might die of old age, we tarry to long."

"_Relic!"_ The Apothecary sounded livid. "_I'll take that out of both your hides when this is over!"_

Zeed was almost upon the alien now. The thing howled, and its automatons swarmed over the Raven Guard.

"Death to the enemies of Man!" The servos in his knees whirred. The marine hurled himself forwards, metal men still clinging to him, onto the screeching xenos. There was a crunch.

The automata went limp. Beneath Zeed's chestplate, the xenos corpse twitched.

* * *

_Star of Phoros_ was dead. From start to finish, it had taken sixteen Terran minutes for the three astartes to complete their purge. The marines withdrew to the boarding torpedo, taking corpses and captured equipment with them for study. As a final measure, to conceal their presence, Techmarine Lu'shan coded final orders into _Star of Phoros_'s nav computer.

As the Deathwatch torpedo withdrew, the xenos ship began a nose dive into the atmosphere of Nirvana.


End file.
